#might make a tp post tomorrow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neutron-stars-collision · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 21 - Losing My Religion

Masterlist; Chapter 20

Summary: After Tallinn, you use the opportunity and visit Neil’s apartment. What you find there, only increases the confusion, just as the pieces are set for the endgame.

Warnings: Swearing; angst.

Author’s Notes: This was a challenge, and it’s a little different too, a breather before the real fun begins... or something. After this we move onto the icebreaker... (and things). I’ll shut up now, hope you’ll enjoy and all kind of feedback are greatly welcomed!

The clean up after TP’s little accident on the highway was difficult. And tiring. By the time you have dealt with the mess and could call it a day, you wanted nothing but to sleep. And also disappear from the face of the Earth. That second thing was rather tricky to achieve. Unfortunately. You had to settle for the slightly awkward space given by the rest of the team and the fact that you were bound to return to London the next day. That was something. Even if it meant having to debate whether those damned keys were to be used.

The journey back was uneventful. Only Wheeler seemed capable of talking to you without looking as though she has been trapped in some metaphorical web of ineptitude that the others got caught in. That was alright. At least she knew how that conversation in the container went. Her company was good enough to keep you from going insane for the time being.

The moment the car arrived at the London quarters, you practically bolted out through the door. Eager to finally have your own space to reflect, cry, and try to move on after the unimaginable. But it was not exactly meant to be given…

“Y/N, wait!” Ives’ voice rung out through the reception hall as you skidded down the corridor.

Crap.

“Yeah?” cautiously, you stopped in your tracks, facing the squad leader.

Making the mistake of glancing at the reception desk, you met Anna’s watchful gaze. Of course. Even though you knew she had no clue about anything that transpired between you and Neil, it still felt like a painful reminder.

“I…uh...” the hesitation in Ives’ voice made you frown, “I just got this, and I’m not sure…” he passed you his phone with a strange expression on his face.

A text from TP. Just like the ones you received before. Right… This one had a familiarly succinct form: “Invert for eight days with the army from tomorrow. Then get to Trondheim, awaiting further instructions”

“Is this from him?” you looked up to see the blue eyes boring into yours with confusion.

“Yeah, it must be” you nodded and handed him back the phone.

At that exact moment, you got a text as well. Hurriedly you took out the device and read the message:

“Invert along with Ives and the rest��.

Short and simple. Yet not at all. Without a word, you showed your companion the text message and stifled a heavy sigh. Inversion. Eight days. Trondheim. That most likely confirmed your worst fears. The end of it all was near, and you were needed there. You, Neil, and everyone else still had their parts to play in the most important of showdowns.

“So, I guess we’re going back” you could feel Ives’ inquisitive stare on you “Just like they are” he added, awaiting a response.

Meeting Neil after those eight upcoming days sounded like a nightmare. Because a week was never enough to fall out of love. Or to even attempt it. You were a lost cause.

“…yep” nodding halfheartedly, you could feel another weight settle on your shoulders.

“Excited?” the intensity of Ives’ look convinced you towards his intentions.

Evidently, he tried to get a clue towards your state, probably assessing whether you could endanger the mission in any way. Despite everything, you were a professional. A Tenet agent. That had to come before any personal issues you might have had. Forcing a smile, you met his gaze with sincerity.

“Not really” a shrug completed the response.

But it was enough as he grinned back and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s alright. Have today off and be ready tomorrow morning,” he ordered with a feigned sternness.

“Aye aye, sir” you saluted, enjoying the laugh it prompted.

Maybe not everything was utterly shit.

“Your edge is still intact, I see,” he commented once the laughter died down.

“At least something is then” you grimaced slightly and walked off with a wave.

A day off. What could one possibly do with something like that after everything? The set of keys in your pocket felt heavy for something that small. And insignificant (in theory).

*** It took you one hour of staring at the wall, a thirty-minute-long shower, and two coffees to decide to make use of the keys. After all, what was the harm? It was a way of spending the idle hours. And maybe to understand him a little better. Even if it was too late to save anything. You wanted to know him. To know his mind and heart. You dug out the note with the address Ives gave you and typed it into the maps app. Your hands were shaking the whole journey. Even though it was not far, it turned out to be challenging. Often you were catching yourself glancing at the phone, expecting him to call or text as he always did. But then you remembered, making the nerves come to the surface again. You wondered whether it was because of the absolute wreckage your relationship became or because you were unable to contact him in any way. Walking the streets leading to Neil’s apartment, you realised that it was probably both. You missed him. Simple as that. And equally complicated at the same time.

Google maps led you to an old docking space transformed into posh loft spaces in two store buildings of dark red brick. The residential area was completed with a large parking lot (full of rather good cars), making the first question of the day pop into your head: Did Neil have a private car? Something that unimportant yet entirely mundane only made you realise how little you knew of his life. But this was exactly why you came here. The second thought was something you always knew yet never took time to ponder on: the fact that he undeniably had money. It did not matter, of course. Just another fact that could as a trigger for the intrusive ideas to appear.

Ignoring the spiraling thoughts, you made your way to the indicated building, keying in the code at the door and following the stairs to the second floor. The apartment door no 4 looked like any other you have passed on the way. Turning the key in the lock, you took a deep breath, gathering courage for god knows what. Perhaps just being alone with everything that had to do with Neil… The door opened soundlessly. Faint daylight from the corridor fell onto the furniture and objects gathered in the hall, helping your eyes adjust to the darkness. You closed the door and locked it. The least you could have wanted was for someone to break in on your watch. Now that would have made him hate you. If he didn’t already, that is. Taking off the shoes, you scanned the hall. Hooks with various jackets and coats on the wall. Including a slightly weathered leather one that perked your interest. With fingers ghosting the material, you were unable to block the images of Neil wearing it. That was enough to make you blush and curse out loud. That won’t help with getting over him. As though that was even possible.

Next, your eyes landed on the shoes rack in the corner showing off Neil’s questionable taste in footwear. You grimaced when spotting another pair of brogues (that would have to go… if there was any future for you) and then smiled involuntarily at something as casual as old converse on the top shelf of the rack. So, he could dress more… normally. Interesting.

The rest of the space was filled with a large mirror and a cupboard full of random objects such as spare lightbulbs, shoe care products, and cleaning supplies. On top of that cupboard, there was a succulent (practical, you had to admit), a desk calendar, and a small notepad filled with Neil’s writing. The contents ranged from shopping lists to quantum physics, making you grin fondly when looking through the pages. The latest entry was written down in haste and barely eligible. What you deciphered made your heart stumble for the first time that day. It seemed like Neil was planning to invite you over after Tallinn, prepare dinner, and apparently do all that ‘he wanted to for a while’. Brilliant. The notepad fell from your hands as the implications dawned on you. He wanted to set everything straight, to talk and potentially tell you important things… But now, it did not matter. There was no post-Estonia. Just you alone in his cold, darkened apartment, full of doubts, regrets, and worries.

Shivering from both the chill and the anxiety, you ventured into the living room. It was an open space with a large leather sofa, TV, record player with shelves full of albums and vinyls. There were also bookcases filled to the brim and a dining table for four. Once your gaze fell onto the black piano in the corner, you did a double-take. Obviously, Neil was musically talented. All those times when he has been desperate to annoy you by singing various corny love songs in public were an indisputable example. A moment like that from Tallinn flashed before your eyes…

You and Neil sat in a restaurant on one of the ‘dates’ you had managed to fit into the schedule before TP arrived in Estonia. Cozied up in the corner on a comfortable sofa, you felt perfectly at peace. Instead of taking the seat opposite, Neil got as close as it was possible without raising eyebrows of the fine clientele. You were chatting about everything and nothing, occasionally taking sips of the coffees and letting your hands rest on each other’s knees. Other times they would be interlocked on the table between the plates, showing to the world that this was no platonic meetup. Using the natural break in the conversation, you finished the remains of your latte and watched as Neil focused on the radio somewhere in the background. By this point, you should have known better, but still, the second he started singing took you by surprise.

‘Pretty woman I don't believe you, you're not the truth No one could look as good as you, mercy’

His gaze settled on you without that mercy, awaiting a response. His lips curled into a deadly smirk, making the matters worse. For a moment, you wanted to ignore him, to deny him the satisfaction. But the way he stared, enunciating the song lyrics with precision and aiming them at you, triggered the familiar desire to stake your claim. To make him (and everyone else) understand that he was yours. Especially with a voice that beautiful and eyes that looked at you with boundless affection.

‘Pretty woman that you look lovely as can be Are you lonely just like me’

It was the cheesy growl at the end of that stanza that did it. Combined with the huskiness of Neil’s voice and his hand appearing on your thigh underneath the table, it was enough to convince you to shut him up the best way you knew. You leaned in, placing your palm on the inside of his thigh, just close enough to remind him. Capturing his lips in a kiss, you did not have to wait long for Neil to invite you closer. You began the intimate dance, getting lost in the moment entirely. With him being in public did not matter. Especially not when he was giving you everything he could on a silver plate. Those days every kiss threatened to evolve into a full make-out session as you tried to get ever closer to him. That is why when you heard an awkward cough followed by “Miss, Sir, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you to leave” you could only start laughing. That was two days before your walk, which ended in the alley. The rest was history.

Shaking your head slightly, you let go of the memory. Has it gotten even colder? Shivering, you spotted a sweater draped on the side of the sofa. Crossing the space, you glanced at the instrument that caught your attention. A simple black Kawai piano with a Chopin music score opened on the fallboard and the stool underneath. If there even was a future, you wanted to hear him play something. You could almost picture it. Those long, elegant fingers on the black and white keys, hitting every note with perfection and the flourish he applied to every single task. His gaze focused. Golden hair falling into his eyes carelessly. Lips parted, tongue poking out in concentration. He was bound to be a sight as usual.

Ignoring the waking up flutters that always accompanied every thought about Neil, you picked up the sweater. It was the colour of dark red wine, simple and yet sophisticated in its simplicity. Cashmere. He really is posh. Giving in to the sudden whimsy, you breathed in the smell. That was a mistake. The moment Neil’s essence overwhelmed your senses, you felt a surge of feelings. The musky scent, the hints of bergamot and lavender that always brought comfort. Before you could second guess everything, you put the sweater on, letting the smell envelope you like his hugs always did. It was another thing that you missed. The ability to rest within his strong embrace, safe and wanted. The feeling of his arms cradling you with care. Without the solidity beneath your hands, it was hard to remember how it felt. The sweater had to do. You rolled up the sleeves and approached the large window, drawing back the curtains to see the view and let in light. The sight certainly was not disappointing with the lookout on the Thames and the docking ships. The area looked peaceful, like the place you could want to go out on walks and spend the rest of your life… No, stop. That was a dangerous line of thinking. After all, you only came here to satisfy the curiosity. And because you could, with nothing left to lose. Well, maybe apart from your sanity.

With the day shedding some light onto the furniture and objects in the room, you could more closely assess the type of person Neil was. The décor was rather posh (nothing surprising there) with leather, dark wood, and refined fabrics gracing the space. But upon a closer look, you could see the hints of Neil’s personality shining through the bounds of the stereotypes. It was visible in the chaos of the little details. Billy Idol album discarded on the CD player making you smile. The dying plants on the windowsill. The opened book on the coffee table right next to a bar of chocolate and some bullets. What even…

Looking around the space, you could easily picture him there. It was like entering a museum of Neil’s life and heart, and you were just a mere visitor. A trespasser even though you had the keys. Lost in the thoughts, you approached the bookshelves, looking over the titles. Young and Freedman’s University Physics with Modern Physics with a worn-out spine and a library stamp on the title page (a theft?). Griffith’s Introduction to Quantum Mechanics with scribbles on the margins, making your head hurt. More Quantum Mechanics but only getting increasingly complex. Spacetime and Geometry. In between the textbooks, there were classics of English and American literature, proving your theory that Neil knew the canon well. All those quotations had to come from somewhere… You looked over the further titles relating to the nuclear area of Physics and relativity of time, only to be thrown out of the moment when your eyes landed on a photograph in a wooden frame. A grinning young man with warm brown eyes and curly dark hair sat on the bench in the park. Alex. Picking up the photo, you took a closer look, feeling inexplicable heaviness in your chest. He looked just like Neil described him – an essence of goodness and understanding. The lump in our throat was strange. He still loved Alex that was a fact and something you took for granted. For a second, you wondered whether you could ever be half that important to him. But that was selfish. And wrong.

Swallowing hard, you put down the frame, focusing on another one nearby. In that photo, you recognized everyone. Ives with slightly longer hair grinning widely, next to him Wheeler with her practical bun and amused eyes, TP relaxed like always when in the company of friends. And then… You would recognize those eyes and sharp jaw anywhere, but… He’s not naturally blonde? You stared at the man who was undoubtedly Neil but with light brown hair, just as messy as usual. Interesting. You did suspect he dyed the hair but still having confirmation was unexpected. Staring a little longer at the photo, you already knew that it did not matter. He was a work of art, full stop. The rest of the photos depicted the Tenet crew, apart from the one you assumed was a family snapshot from years ago. Two happy boys with mundane looking parents and a Labrador retriever (Charlie!). Upon a closer look, you could tell that Neil got his blue eyes after his mother and the smile after his father. It was an interesting discovery. Other objects littering the shelves included postcards, trinkets from travels, and a strange collection of obscure coins. Also, more notebooks with Neil’s equations and theories and music scores. There was no order, just fate, and fancy. Just like him.

Wandering into the kitchen, running your fingertips over various instruments and surfaces, you wanted to soak in the atmosphere of the apartment. So far, the new information was almost overwhelming. But also fascinating in the fact that you already felt like you knew him better. Glancing at the fridge in passing, you froze. Among the cheap promotional magnets and old shopping notes attached to it, there was a rather familiar writing visible. A note you made Anna pass to him many weeks ago. “I’ll be at the shooting range. Meet you for dinner after 5” signed with your initials for practicality. Why has he kept it? It did not make sense. You forgot about the existence of something that inconsequential, yet here it was. Kept in place with a blaring orange magnet from Sainsbury’s. Suddenly feeling a little faint with the implications of the moment, you poured tap water into the glass and sat down on the stool by the kitchen island. You could still remember Anna’s offended stare when you gave her the note with the instruction to pass it to Neil later. That memory triggered another one, much more recent…

In the days leading up to Tallinn, you went out with Neil for a lunch and walk under the guise of planning the logistics of your journey. Sure, there was some planning being done over the tea and sandwiches. But there was also a lot of hand-holding, kissing, and gazing shamelessly. It was during those days, and then the idle hours in the safe house, that you have allowed yourself to love him. The feelings were there for months (most likely), but only after Oslo and the candid conversations in your room, you felt more at ease with them. So far, that PDA was not all that terrifying. And so, when you came back to the London quarters that afternoon, your fingers intertwined, you only realised how it looked like from the outside when Neil tugged you in the direction of Anna’s desk.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, hoping the woman was too busy to see you.

“I told you, need to get that ID sorted,” he explained, matching your conspiratorial tone, completely oblivious to your struggles.

“Yeah, but…” you raised your joined hands as if to show him the issue.

Neil grinned, waving his free hand dismissively.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s not like that’s against the rules” ending the sentence, he took the final step separating you from the desk.

Great. Plastering on the most pleasant of smiles, you met Anna’s accusatory glare. You could not blame her.

“Anna, hi” Neil’s bright grin got met with a cold face of stone.

You vividly remembered that first day at Tenet, when you were filling in the paperwork, observing him flirt with the woman behind the desk. Back then, you were baffled by her reaction, the fluttering of eyelashes and lovesick smiles. Now you wondered how you got to that point and why you were seemingly luckier than she could ever be.

“Yes?”

“My ID is expiring soon. Was wondering if you could give me the form for the new one?” Neil’s chirpy tone made you hide a smile by looking at the floor “I want to get this sorted for after we’re back” he added, with that hopeful gaze barely anyone could ever say no to.

Anna was not any different.

“Naturally,” she spared you a final spiteful look before turning around to use the computer.

Glancing around the empty lobby, you hoped to survive the rest of the encounter without any additional awkwardness. But Neil had other plans. He stepped in closer, nose brushing over your ear, tearing down any illusions about the nature of your relationship. You stifled a sigh when his lips placed a small kiss over your temple.

“Shall we go to yours after this?” the whisper complemented with a ghost of his fingers on the side of your neck made you shiver.

“Maybe…” you cast a wary glance at Anna, but her back was turned.

Thankfully.

“I thought we could resume the planning…” upon the suggestive tone, you turned to meet his gaze.

Surely enough, the playful sparks were there. And the smirk too. Of course. Planning, in this case, most likely meant more cuddling… and potentially kissing. His hands getting accustomed to your body, leaving countless promises for the future. The thoughts alone made you blush. Before Neil could get any closer, Anna’s voice interrupted the moment:

“Here’s your form,” nothing but ice and fury.

So, she must have noticed…

“Thanks” the polite nod made you snicker.

During the next few terribly long minutes, you did your best to avoid looking at the other woman. Or at Neil. Your gaze roamed over the ceiling, the walls, and the floor. Reading the same fire evacuation instructions for the fifth time, you felt a gentle touch on your arm:

“Can I put down your details as my emergency contact?” you looked up straight into those inquisitive blue eyes “I’ve had Ives the last two years, but I think you’re a more accurate option these days,” he explained as though it was obvious.

Emergency contact? You always assumed those were for best friends and spouses. You were not sure which fitted the criteria.

“How so?” blurting out the only viable question, you met his perplexed gaze.

“… because I’m with you and not with him” the bluntness of the reply made your heart stumble.

“Right”

Of course, you agreed. As a ‘thank you’ that afternoon, Neil kissed you until there was barely any breath left for either of you. Now you missed the feeling of being that desired.

And yet, that stupid note was right there, in your eyes a bright red spot that you could not ignore. Because surely, he must have cared at some point? You finished the remains of water and washed the glass. Then, just for the sake of a distraction, you went through the kitchen cupboards. Nothing surprising. Appliances that looked barely used. Canned food every Brit would be expected to have. The amounts of frozen meals in the lower fridge compartments confirmed another thesis - Neil did not like cooking. That was fair not everyone could be Jamie Oliver. Not that you would prefer him. Certainly not. Shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the thoughts, you opened another cabinet. Wine and glasses, triggering the memory from your date night in Oslo. The way Neil tried to emulate his swank further by pretending to be a sommelier, making you laugh with his fake French accent and sparse knowledge. Upon the efforts to name something else than tannins (that Sauvignon Blanc had little of), you stepped in, shutting him up with a fingertip tracing the outline of his lips, collecting a stray droplet of wine. And then licking your finger clean, much to his shock. The strange snapshot from one of the most eventful nights in your life was a good cue to leave the kitchen and trod down the corridor.

You stepped into the bathroom, curiously glancing at the contents of the cupboards and around the sink. Nothing remarkable. Giving in to the temptation, you sprayed the cologne he used on your wrist and inhaled deeply. Closing the bathroom door, your eyes landed on the room at the end of the corridor. Neil’s bedroom. Involuntarily, you felt a shiver run down your spine. Bedrooms were always a sacred space. The most private of places in the house. The stage set for life’s crucial events. Love, life, and tragedy all began to play out (and end) in there. If there was a room closest to the heart of the owner, it would be the bedroom and its contents. With a shaky hand, you pressed down the handle and opened the door. The interior was almost too mundane. The bed with dark grey covers and decorative pillows. Some artworks on the walls and drawn curtains, forcing you to turn on the ceiling lamp. A small bedside table with a night light and books. A walk-in closet with the sliding doors partly opened. That was what drew you in first, crossing the space you peered inside. Only to be overwhelmed with that Neil smell that made sure to make your heart rate pick up. Gently, you ran your fingers over the suit jackets and sweaters hanged on the rails. He had a multitude of those, in different colours. Eyeing a suit in dark blue, you could imagine how it would bring out his eyes. There were a few sweaters in different shades of green, confirming the suspicions that he liked the colour. Further along, you found a drawer with ties of various patterns, making you grin at one olive green with Labradors on it. Now that was a classic Neil accessory.

Just when you were about to end the ‘snooping’ your gaze landed on a more casual part of the wardrobe. Jeans folded on the shelves, t-shirts, and polos. Even a jean jacket somewhere in the back. In the drawer, you found socks with questionable patterns, only increasing the fondness you felt for the owner of such an eclectic wardrobe. And then you made the mistake of letting your curiosity get ahead of you. Another drawer. Underwear. Your face got warm as you slammed it shut. Enough. Thinking about that could lead to the dangerous territory you would rather not venture out to. At least not when alone in his apartment, overwhelmed with memories and feelings. There would be time for this too later… Hopefully.

Sliding the doors shut, you took in the room again. The pile of books on the bedside table caught your attention. Gingerly, you sat down on the bed, doing your best not to think about the specifics of that moment. You, alone in his bedroom. This was certainly not how you expected to end up in there for the first time. But that too was beyond the point. Sighing, you picked up the stack of books only to drop them onto the covers with hands shaking. You would recognize the cover everywhere. Your favourite book. The exact copy you had last seen in Oslo when you gave it to Neil. That memory was rather unforgettable…

Hanging out in the hotel room, waiting for Mahir and TP to come back from a small errand, you did your best to ignore Neil’s piercing gaze from across space. That was the day after your careless dancing and that evening’s developments when he asked you out. Just before the mission. And Neil was staring, shamelessly so. It was getting on your nerves.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” putting down the itinerary, you broke the silence and faced him.

The satisfied smile was enough to make you groan. He knew exactly what he was doing, as though waiting for the moment to strike when you were alone.

“Actually not, no” the grin widened as he shrugged nonchalantly “Plus you’re quite the sight. As usual” propping his chin on his hand, he kept on gazing.

The bastard was impossible.

“Jesus…” sighing, you rummaged in the bag at your feet “Do you want a book or something?” you took out a worn-out paperback “Because all that staring makes me want to…” trailing off, you met his inquisitive glare.

Want to kiss him. For starters. But he need not know that.

“What? Tell me” Neil spread his legs casually, leaning back in the armchair. An object of pure poise. And the challenge, aimed at you only. That was Neil at the top of his game, sure of what he wanted and how to get it. But you were not going to give it to him easily.

“Better not” the slight shock in his eyes gave you confidence “If yesterday taught me anything, it’s that your ego is big enough” offering him a sly smirk, you took a sip of the water.

When you looked up again, Neil was staring at you with an exaggerated pained expression on his face.

“I’m wounded” he put the hand over his heart like the drama queen that he was.

Scoffing, you laughed at the spectacle. Two could play the game.

“Good,” the offended whine only increased the satisfaction “So do you want that book?” you picked up the paperback, showing it to him “I’ve got my favourite one with me. Could kill some time”

“Yes, please” he got up and crossed the room, taking the book from you “I’ll have a chance to see what’s in that head of yours” Neil leaned down to your level and kissed you on the forehead “Apart from the desire for me, of course” he added, once he moved out of your reach once again.

Fucking hell.

“Neil”

At least there were some fun memories to come back to, you thought, looking through the copy you borrowed Neil. Then you noticed another thing. Under your book, there was another one of the same title. Brand new. Pages filled with Neil’s scribbles on the margins and underlined passages, highlighting the exact same quotations that made this book become your favourite. My god. The realization hit you with a gasp and a shiver. He read it. And not only that, but he also tried to understand you through something you held so dear. Reading the notes he made, you knew he was listening to every word you said. No matter the moment, the stage of your ‘relationship’, evidently, he cared enough to be interested in your thoughts and feelings. You were holding the proof in your hands. In some margin notes, Neil even referred to you using your initials, pointing out why it could resonate with you so much. The more you read, the more it felt like you have encountered his diary, in some form. That would be it when it comes to getting over. Putting down the books, your head was spinning. Too much.

You needed food. And sleep. It was at that moment that you decided to stay. It got late enough to make the journey back inconvenient. And everything was right here. Feeling like Goldilocks personified, you made use of Neil’s frozen food assortment and put on the music. Once you got over the initial shock of the afternoon, it was almost too easy to pretend that Tallinn never happened. That you were still alright. That he still potentially loved you. With the somewhat soothing sounds of Billy Idol and The Darkness, you went over Neil’s notebooks with equations. You understood nothing but the possibility to read his notes and theories was as comforting as it could get. Then, feeling your eyelids get heavy, you cleaned up and moved to the bedroom. Lying down in Neil’s bed felt like sacrilege. But the moment your head rested on the pillow and you inhaled the scent, it was all excused. At least in your eyes. Giving in to the foolish daydreams, you could almost imagine him next to you. The warmth and comfort the cuddles always provided. But you were alone, still wearing that sweater that smelled too good to be given up. It had to be enough. You fell asleep thinking about those damned blue eyes and the man that took the ownership of your heart for good.

*** Upon waking up in the cold apartment the next morning, you wanted nothing but to leave as soon as possible. In the daylight, with dreams of happiness haunting every corner of your mind, the feeling of loneliness was more persistent. You made sure to get rid of any signs of your intrusion, cleaned the kitchen, and made the bed. The only keepsake you could not deny yourself was the cashmere sweater that you stuffed into the bag. Even if he would not want anything to do with you, you could give it back along with the keys. Surely he would understand… right? After everything that you found in his flat, nothing seemed certain anymore.

You made it back to the HQs with just enough time to shower and pack for the next week of sitting in the inversion chambers in the sealed off part of the complex. That did not sound good as it meant more time with too many people in the cramped quarters. You had enough of that at this point. But then that was the prize of getting the most incredible of jobs. That and getting your heart broken. Again.

You joined the rest of the army by the larger turnstile, used purely for long-term inversion, instead of training. Accepting friendly nods from both Ives and Wheeler, you took your place in the queue. No one knew exactly what the purpose of this was. Just that you were supposed to go back eight days and then travel to the Norwegian coastline, awaiting instructions. The intuition that was rarely wrong told you that you were in the endgame from this point onwards.

And so, the next week was restricted to trying not to lose your sanity locked within the four walls. The only escape from the small room was the kitchen (always full of people that wanted to know too much), bathroom (that always had lines of people waiting by the door), and the small courtyard, where you could not step out without the oxygen tank and a mask. Overall, it was not the most pleasant of experiences. Especially when most days you wanted to curl up in bed and contemplate the mess that your life became. And to marinate in pain that became a constant companion. The sweater could only help so much. Accompanied with nerves and worry, you felt objectively shit and did everything to preserve the solitude. That is how you found yourself in the small kitchen at 2 am, eating toasties and drinking tea. Earlier the compound was too busy, and you preferred starving than facing the others. Only with everyone asleep, you could catch up on the meals missed. Well, almost everyone…

“How are you doing?” a voice interrupted your brooding.

You turned in the seat only to see Wheeler enter the room with a small smile on her face. Her you could tolerate, as an exemption.

“Bad” the candid answer seemed only appropriate “But I don’t mind the company, so please… stay” you added upon her hesitation.

She just nodded and proceeded to make a cup of tea. The silence stretched, but for once, it was rather pleasant. Finally, she finished the task and took the seat opposite you, giving you a quick once-over. You knew what she saw. Tangled hair, reddened eyes from lack of sleep, and hours of tears. The sweater that became the only comfort in those early morning moments when nothing seemed real and yet everything was too much.

“Is the sweater his?” she asked plainly, and you could only nod.

At this stage, surely, nothing was bound to surprise her.

“Yeah… Maybe it’s silly, but I took it from his place just to have something… tangible” you explained, consciously running your fingers over the material. Instead of judgement, you got a smile in return.

“No, I understand” Wheeler took a sip from the mug before asking, “Did the apartment give you any answers?”

You have not shared the story with anyone, unable to process it all even in the quiet of your mind. But maybe this was a chance to let it out…

“Mostly whiplash,” you let out a bitter laugh “It’s like… he cares… or cared,” you stumbled over the tense “But then in Tallinn after the shoot-out, he just closed off completely, and I don’t know why” raising your hands in defeat, you planted on your face on the table.

Anything goes. After a moment of utter frustration, you met Wheeler’s inquisitive eyes again. She did not seem bothered by your antics. Just a little concerned by the picture you were painting.

“Maybe it’s trauma” the seriousness of her expression made you think.

You did consider that option. But even knowing what happened with Alex, his reaction seemed too violent. You were alive, and yet he was trying to push you away. Plus, that way of thinking implied something else. Something you did not dare consider.

“That would mean he… loved me” getting the words out was a challenge “And I don’t think he does” you stared at the table, giving in to the thoughts once again “Whatever is going to happen now, I think I need space. Some distance. Trying to get over this won’t work otherwise”

Formulating the feelings that were overwhelming your heart and mind felt somehow relieving. Even if the prospects were anything but good.

“Is that what you want? To let him go?” the straightforward attitude of your companion was helpful.

“I don’t know,” sighing, you met her gaze, “I want… him, but if he doesn’t feel the same then…” with reddened cheeks, you let the sentence trail off.

She would understand, you were sure of that. And, if the slightly suspicious look in Wheeler’s eyes was anything to go by, she had her ideas about the topic.

“You should probably try talking to him again” she spoke after a few minutes of silence.

“Last time that ended terribly,” you replied, arching your eyebrows, begging her to remember how bad that container conversation went.

“I know,” Wheeler patted your shoulder reassuringly, “But I also know that sometimes Neil needs a proper kick in the ass before he sees what’s right in front of him” she got up and went to the sink, picking up both of your dishes.

With the soothing soundtrack of the washing, you could feel almost sleepy. If it was not for that never-ending chatter of your thoughts.

“If you say so…” you murmured when she turned the tap off.

“Go to sleep. It’s just two days more of this torture” giving you a final smile, Wheeler left the kitchen.

You could survive two days. After that? Who knows. But it had to be alright.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

111 notes · View notes

givemeonebreath · 4 years ago

Text

A big, messy Linked Universe playlist

Link for Links

Heavy on the angst, because of who I am as a person. (At the same time, don’t take it too seriously, man.)

Influenced by canon, manga (TP Link is really Going Through It™ ), my personal perceptions, and popular fandom canon.

A pretty wide variety of genres, with a bias towards metal and prog rock.

I kept snippets of lyrics for most songs, also because of who I am as a person. (Some were particularly hard to narrow down to just one verse or chorus.) Those - and a little more rambling - are under the cut if you really want, in the order of the playlist. But. It’s long.

I didn’t initially make this with the intent to share, but hey. Throughout my past year+ of listening, I’ve been haphazardly adding songs to a playlist I very creatively named Links. If something reminded me of them, whether through the music or lyrics or both, I threw it on the playlist, so some songs might seem odd or vague. Some are really on the nose, as subtle as a sledgehammer. (Sky for Sky? Dude. Sorry.) Some are there because of a fitting line or two that stuck in my head. Ultimately, music - like any form of creative expression - can be interpreted in a multitude of ways.

My listening habits and tastes are erratic, which is why this is one big, jumbled playlist and not separated for different Links. Not to mention if I did that, some (Wild, Legend) would have a lot and some (Wind, Four) would have none, both because of my own familiarity with them, and because of the general themes of the music I tend to listen to. Most songs are a general ‘hero’s spirit reborn’ mood, anyway - those are the first part of the playlist. The second half is more nuanced to specific Links, plus a few Ganon vibes.

1. Deep Purple - April (Koji Kondo, composer of the original Legend of Zelda theme, was into Deep Purple as a kid, and it shows.)

2. Kamelot - Regalis Apertura

3. Au4 - So Just Hang On, Beautiful One (I’ve posted this here before. I can’t hear it without thinking of LU now.) So I slipped in through the gate almost unknown. All my border stamps were late. Seven days old. Cold hand griped my shoulder blade, broke the bone. Bloody nose and turned away, all the way home.

4. FC Kahuna - Hayling Don’t think about all those things you fear, just be glad to be here

5. Glass Animals - Youth Boy, when I left you you were young I was gone, but not my love You were clearly meant for more Than a life lost in the war

6. Pain of Salvation - Restless Boy A restless boy in a world too slow A flame born into cinder, ash, and glow I've given everything I gave it all Yet find myself alone

7. Haken - The Endless Knot Our design shifted frame by frame! Across the line our cycle starts to fail. Our design shifted frame by frame! Across the line we die to live again. We need a story to believe in. We need a hero to prevail. We need a challenge we can overcome, it takes a tragedy to make us one

8. Kamelot - Memento Mori (I particularly associate this with Time and Twilight) I am the god in my own history The master of the game I may believe if she would come to me And whisper out my name Sometimes I wonder where the wind has gone If life has ever been Sometimes I wonder how belief alone Can cut me free from sin

9. Katatonia - Fighters Look I told you so We never stop If we said that We'll back it up For sure You know We're fighters

10. Megadeth - This Day We Fight! (I mean, all Links, but particularly Warriors) For this I was chosen, because I fear nothing With confidence I tread through the dead of the night Off to another war-torn, faraway battlefield Wherein lies a demonic enemy horde

11. Moon Tooth - Igneous Well, the spirit took me And this old broken body leapt up and danced Settin’ out Settin' out with all my heroes in a bundle at my back Hawk am I More wings span in my shadow than overcast Yeah, you know what they say Always need something to look up to, ha

12. Samael - Moongate Destiny, tomorrow is today Destiny, without boundaries How many nights will we spend together traveling infinity back and forth and again How many times will we go together questioning eternity about us about our wonders...

13. TOOL- Parabola This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality Embrace this moment, remember We are eternal, all this pain is an illusion

14. Lunatic Soul - Blood on the Tightrope No matter how hard you try To shut down your feverish thoughts They hunt you down with no regret Cause you have to fix it all

15. Hybrid - Keep It In The Family

16. Soul Savers - Unbalanced Pieces Gone, now carry on Through violent seasons I call you mother, mother, mother In vain, absent chain The twilight's bleeding And the playing board has two unbalanced pieces

17. Steve Von Till - Valley of the Moon All she gives is a stone facade Like ill-given flowers at a dead man's wake Here we slave for the dreams of another And fight over scraps like wayward dogs

18. Ludovico Einaudi - Experience

19. Lunatic Soul - Summoning Dance Three stones on the right side Three stones on the left My vicious circle of life and death “Oh you want it” I hear it again “Oh you want it” My burden Curse to break

20. Lunatic Soul - Through Shaded Woods Run through your shaded woods Run through your shaded mind Run through the night Run away Run through the darkness Run

21. Lunatic Soul - Naavie

22. David Bowie - Nature Boy There was a boy A very strange, enchanted boy They say he wandered very far Very far, over land and sea A little shy and sad of eye But very wise was he

23. The Dandy Warhols - Sleep Well, I could sleep forever But it's of her I dream If I could sleep forever I could forget about everything

24. Au4 - Everyone is Everyone (and Everything is Everything) Tripping and tumbling, Flipping and fumbling. Flowing on the rivers of sadness That have been forever rumbling. But from dawn until now Of all the paths that I could have gone down Of all the valleys That I could have been flowing through. In spite of all the chaos And all that has come between us, How is it I still find myself Here with you.

25. Kingcrow - Everything Goes Your hands again upon the ground Falling rain for hours and hours As you learn the game Time dispels the fog ... Ever been there? Ever felt like prey? Ever thought your mind was feeble? Lot of things that don’t make sense

26. Pain of Salvation - Icon As a child I felt too old And now when I'm grown-up I feel too young A different kind so I've been told Just slightly out of reach and out of time

27. Sophia Loizou - Divine Interference (I got spooky dungeon vibes. Also, the title.)

28. Carpenter Brut - Fab Tool Runnin Gunnin Forward in the phantom shatter so grand Splatter grand, arcanum fuel Wrought iron out of the sky Over me, tells no lie

29. Blue Stahli - Death Will Have to Run All on the open road Where none will ever grow A journey toward the known With countless miles to go

30. Gyroscope - Mistakes & Ladders I am the first? No I can't be the first A continuous nothing, destined for something Tell me who you are and why you trapped me here

31. Queens of the Stone Age - Run, Pig, Run Run, pig, run Here I come

32. Chali 2na & Krafty Kuts - Guard The Fort The swords are drawn and odds are stacked And we clash the impact's a thunderous clap Calm demeanor Even though we are under attack [...my turn to guard the fort ready for combat]

33. The Great Discord - Army of Me (lol)

34. Kongos - Terrified I think I'll start again and change my name You only live once or twice, what a shame Somebody fucked up when designing this game

35. Woodkid - Run Boy Run Run, boy, run! This ride is a journey to Run, boy, run! The secret inside of you Run, boy, run! This race is a prophecy Run, boy, run! And disappear in the trees

36. The Beta Machine - The End A million miles away from you this time I'll do what it takes I'm on my way If lines are in the sand I'll go under If I can make it in time I will bring you back with me

37. Devin Townsend Project - Gump When we last met who was I? I'm sorry we no longer see eye to eye The energy to keep you in while keeping myself out I'm sorry how you'll take this But I just don't have the patience anymore

38. Arrested Youth - Riot! I can't get much satisfaction living in this cave It's tough to breathe, I'm in the belly of the beast Can't sleep with all my rage With me and all my generations living in this cage Pick up your guns and tell your sons, tonight we break the cage

39. Led Zeppelin - Friends So anytime somebody needs you Don't let them down, although it grieves you Some day you'll need someone like they do Looking for what you knew

40. Faunts - M4, pt 2 (Wild) Fight your foes you're not alone Holy war is on the phone Asking to please stay on hold Bleeding loss of blood runs cold And I need you to recover Because I can't make it on my own

41. Faith No More - Ashes to Ashes (Wild) I want them to know it's me, it's on my head I'll point the finger at me, it's on my head Smiling with the mouth of the ocean And I'll wave to you with the arms of the mountain

42. Devin Townsend - Jupiter (Wild) I know you At least I think I do Everything's changed But in the days that are so dark It's wonderful

43. Katatonia - Neon Epitaph (Wild) Shadow of my shadow Cling not to my grief I am long left behind now You are free

44. The Smashing Pumpkins - The Beginning is the End is the Beginning (Wild) Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us No one can separate us For we are all that is left The echo bounces off me The shadow lost beside me There's no more need to pretend Cause now I can begin again

45. Katatonia - Lacquer (Wild) My voice travelling Soaring bird above your head The house we lived in Ridden with disease ... The levee breaking I can't live to fight once more The road to the grave is straight as an arrow I'm just staying around to sing your song, baby

46. Eskimo Joe - This is Pressure (Wild) There is no romance in suffocation The walls fall down like your expectations You want to scream And you want to shout But you've built up steam And you can't let it out This is pressure

47. Portugal. The Man - 1000 Years (Wild) We'll wait 1000 years Until the end of time We'll wait 1000 more Dressed up in gold and white We'll climb the mountain sides To find what's in the sky We'll dig through mountain sides To find what's deep inside

48. Au4 - An Ocean’s Measure of Sorrow (Wild) Forgot my name and who I was. Memories of nothing floating up. All of the sorrow we once knew, Colours the ocean's water blue.

49. Band of Skulls - Carnivorous (Twilight) I am corrosive and cohesive Like a chemical bond I'm all together undone I am the broken kingdom I'm just so, so, so So carnivorous

50. Glass Animals - Flip (Twilight) I wanna go back with a club and attack I wanna take to my guns and break you I gotta make my little foe take his own

51. TV on the Radio - Wolf Like Me (Twilight) My mind has changed my body's frame, but, God, I like it My heart's aflame, my body's strained, but, God, I like it

52. Kamelot - The Spell (Twilight) All my demons cast a spell The souls of dusk rising from the ashes So the book of shadows tell The weak will always obey the master

53. OSI - Radiologue (Legend) I was dreaming I was heading west thirty days faster Had a fever woke up in a sweat bailing out the water Can't go on Can't go back Heard your voice coming through the noise wrote it in the radio log Hurt my head, wondering what you said so I threw it overboard

54. Katatonia - Don’t Tell A Soul (Legend) I have been destroyed by the perfection that is a lie see I'm moving soon see my feet are already on the road and if you know where I’m going don’t tell a soul

55. Haken - The Mind’s Eye (Legend) The shape of things to come are closer than they seem Changing your design every time you disappear I'm planning my escape through portals of your mind Where people seem to drop like flies

56. Pain of Salvation - Species (Legend) Sometimes I hate my fucking species Yet most days I'll do anything to please it My generation was fooled to pursue our dreams But it is not what it seems You never need what you want And you rarely want what you need

57. Euringer - Do You Kiss Your Mama with That Mouth? (Legend) All my life, misunderstood I'm fuckin' too smart, too smart for my own good The last question, before I go is "Hey motherfucka, do you kiss your mama with that mouth?" Yes! I kiss your mama with this mouth

58. !!! - Pardon My Freedom (Legend) Like I give a fuck, like I give a shit Like I give a fuck about that shit Like I give a fuck about that motherfucking shit

59. Team Sleep - Ataraxia (Legend) Froze asleep Coma deep I dream I'm out with you Alone at sea

60. Oliver Tank - Embrace (Legend) You're in my dreams The world is torn apart at the seams And I don't wanna leave Wearing my heart on it's sleeve

61. Machine Gun Fellatio - The Girl of My Dreams (Is Giving Me Nightmares) (Legend) The girl of my dreams is giving me nightmares I don't know what it means but she's got multi-coloured hair When she stands in the sand I dream of peaches And I'm not sure what that means either

62. Earl Greyhound - Shotgun (Legend & Hyrule) I am nobody, nobody is who I am I am a traveler on this land And nothing, nothing, nothing in my hands

63. TV on the Radio - Staring at the Sun (Hyrule) You're staring at the sun You're standing in the sea Your mouth is open wide You're trying hard to breathe The water's at your neck There's lightning in your teeth Your body's over me

64. Echo & The Bunnymen - The Killing Moon (Time) Fate Up against your will Through the thick and thin He will wait until You give yourself to him

65. Sufjan Stevens - Sugar (Sky) Don’t break my heart, don’t break my flow now And all this rage has got to go now Let’s take up this lifeline Come on, baby, gimme some sugar Don’t make me wait Don’t make me wait too long Don’t make me sing the sad song Come on, baby, gimme some sugar

66. Obsydians - Ascension (Sky) Rise above the hardships you’ll face I will sign and keep on rising As long as you are giving me your soul and keep me awake Feel like home and spread your light around I will listen and just be there As long as you are giving me your love I’ll give you my soul

67. Sonique - Sky -_-

68. Enter Shikari - The King (Ganon) Watch your back, my friend I'm about to kickstart a cycle Of never ending revenge And this time it's primal, it's tribal

69. Saul Williams - WTF! (Ganon, Hylia) "You've been polluted, uprooted by time You have been muted, computed but I'm A living vessel of the one, of the moon, of the sun" Hey! You ain't as dead as you seem, what the fuck? Hey! But you keep living your lies

70. These New Puritans - We Want War (Ganon/ Dark Link/ any nemesis I guess) Shadows dance back up, it's happening again If you listen carefully you might hear them whisper: "We hold all the secrets, we hold all the words; But they're scrambled and broken so you'll never know" Can't you see them Floating like black ash? Can't you feel them Crawling down your back?

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #listening to music while I stare blankly at nothing is legit my number one hobby #and then shit like this happens #linked universe playlist

20 notes · View notes

gayfirebender · 4 years ago

Text

Teleparty Tutorial

|| UPDATED ||

Netflix Party is now Teleparty, so I have updated this tutorial.

Teleparty includes Netflix, Hulu, and Disney Plus! This tutorial only uses Netflix as an example, though.

1. You have to use a laptop/computer to use Teleparty. Go to the app store (the chrome web store) on your computer and look up the Teleparty extension to install it. Just typing in “Teleparty” will bring it up. I recommend installing it at least a day before the Party so that you get a feel for it.

Once it’s installed, there’ll be an “TP” in red wherever your extensions appear on your computer. On mine, they’re in the top right corner.

2. Next, to enter the Teleparty, you use a link that I will provide. It will look like www.tele.pe and a bunch of random numbers. I will post the link on here. If you’re using your phone, copy the link and email it to your computer. If you’re on your computer, just click the link.

About the link: I will probably post it on here about 10 minutes before the time we are going to start (which i will tell y’all the date and time tomorrow) just in case there’s any issues. I will probably also wait 10 minutes after the time we’re supposed to start to make sure everyone is in.

3. When you open the link, it will bring you to the episode we are watching on Netflix. Click on the extension button in the top right corner and it should open the Party (if it isn’t already open).

4. This is what the chat room looks like. This is where everyone can talk about the episode. It also says when people join and leave.

5. Click on the character icon in the top right corner to change your avatar and name in the chat. When we watch the episode, it might be easier to use your tumblr username, but honestly, i always just use a Merlin reference as my name, so you do you :)

To change your avatar, click the bigger version of your icon that appears above “Nickname” and options will appear. There’s 20 icon options to choose from. They’re all pop culture references or food items. They are very cute.

6. Enjoy!

If anyone has anymore questions, comment, DM me, or send an ask!

#merlin #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #netflix party #netflix

93 notes · View notes

coles-number-one-whore · 4 years ago

Text

Warnings! Major Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatred, Self-Deprecating, Self-blaming, Fusion

Based on this post I made.

Fallen Kingdom

Roman was wondering. Wondering how the king was. Wondering how the others were with the King around.

He knocked on Remus' door hesitantly, flinching when the sound of several crashes were heard before Remus opened his door.

"Oh look who it is!" He grinned. "My dear brother! What brings you around?"

"I just wanted to know... Do you ever wonder how things were when we were one?" He watched as Remus' grin dropped and he shook his head. "Do you want to find out?"

"Dunno." The chaotic twin shrugged. "Do you wanna find out?

"It surely wouldn't hurt." Roman muttered.

Almost immediately, Remus' grin was back as he took his twin's hand.

"Then let this party start!"

~•~

"Woah. This place is so dark and freaky. It's amazing!"

"Yeah. Sure. Amazing. Sure. Where are we anyways?"

"I think we did it Ro! We're the King again!"

~•~

It was his fault. It was his fault and no one else's. It was Roman's fault and no one else's. He was the one who'd done it.

He was the one who'd asked Remus to do it with him. Roman was the one who'd asked Remus to fuse with him.

It was all his fault.

He couldn't stand going into the imagination anymore. It was all a reminder. Of when he and Remus had just split and there were no Light and Dark. When they were just them. Not the Prince and the Duke. Just brothers.

But now he was gone and his part of the imagination was slowly withering and disappearing.

Roman couldn't stand it.

He couldn't watch.

Remus was gone.

Did that make him the king now?

Roman had sat there, thinking about how Virgil always compared him and Remus to Thor and Loki, hoping that Remus had actually pulled a Loki and faked it so he could see Roman cry for once.

Deep down he knew that wasn't it.

He cried for him.

But nobody came.

~•~

Patton was baking that night. He had found a new recipe and wanted to try it out, he decided to call for Roman to be his taste-tester, since everyone else seemed too busy at the moment. "Roman, kiddo! Can you come downstairs for a bit and try my cupcakes?"

He frowned when he didn't hear any answer and went to investigate.

The door he found wasn't Roman's door though. It wasn't the red door with glitter stars on it, instead it was replaced by a normal white door with golden swirling patterns.

Patton rubbed his eyes in amazement, not believing what he was seeing. Surely it couldn't be...

The moral side took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to knock on the door.

"Oh! Hello there, Morality."

Patton couldn't help but let his smile spread.

~•~

"I think it's working Remus! See how happy Patton looks?"

"Yeah yeah I can see the froggy going all starry-eyed when he sees us."

"Where are you? This place is so dark, I can't even see you."

"Oh don't worry! I'm right here beside you. Just like I'm haunting you forever!"

~•~

Morality was curled up on the couch, staring at the air like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He still couldn't believe what had happened.

There was the broken vase, shattered into a million pieces and now lying on the ground. Usually it would've been Remus' fault. Usually it would've been Remus being too caught up in his disturbing thoughts to notice where he was going until he had broken something.

But not this time. This time it was Roman, with one of his more violent outbursts, when he insisted on blaming himself for what had happened.

Patton felt powerless. Before, when he felt like that, he used to bake. But there was some sort of awkward silence in the kitchen that he couldn't stand.

Before, when the silence was like that, Remus would've come around the kitchen and started just talking so the silence wouldn't linger for too long. It wasn't that Patton exactly like the ideas the chaotic side had, but there was just something endearing about how he would sit on the counter and babble on and on about the most random things, as long as you didn't pay too much attention to what he was exactly saying.

It was quiet. So so quiet.

He hated the quiet.

~•~

Logan didn't know what to make out from the King's return. He wasn't repressing his thoughts this time though, he really didn't have much of an opinion on it. He didn't exactly like the king that much anymore, he would deny it, but he might miss the twins constant banters and arguments, but he didn't dislike him either, he understood that the existence of one Creativity as a whole would benefit Thomas' mental state.

So when Patton very rudely rose up into his room excitedly, albeit without asking for permission, and babbling some incoherent nonesense as he dragged Logan to the living room, the logical side was a bit confused about all of Patton's commotion.

So he just accepted it. The King was back. There was only one Creativity from then on. Hopefully this would help things go better.

There was just one thing that slightly worried Logic. It was that the King insisted on calling himself Romulus. Normally, he couldn't care less about that and would move on from it, but there was this feeling inside of him that told him that wasn't it.

He looked into the myth about Romulus and hoped that it was just a sick joke. Remus was part of this after all, he would probably do something like that to make anyone who looked to deep freak out.

Right?

~•~

"Why Romulus though?"

"Nothing, just thought it sounded cool!"

"How come?"

"Don't tell me you haven't looked up what our names mean."

"..."

"Oh you definitely haven't. It's nothing, you can look it up after we decide to split again anyways."

~•~

Logan tried to ignore the tension in the mindscape as he cleaned up the lunch table and throwing away the mostly half-eaten food. Just a few more minutes. A few more minutes and you'll be back in your room.

He rose up in his room the second he was done cleaning up after everyone and plopped onto his bed.

He looked up at the painted stars on his ceiling, trying to make out the constellations in them and ignore how bad he still was at emotions.

He was sad. He wanted to cry. He had lost one of the few sides he'd call his friend. He had lost one of the few people who would drag him along for stargazing in the darker part of the imagination, where they could see the stars properly without all the lanterns flying around in his twin's half. He had lost the one person that would sit with him and they'd exchange creepy and gross facts.

Funny enough, he didn't cry when he thought of those moments, and how he won't have them again.

It seemed to only hit at the most random times, when he wasn't thinking about them. Like when he was reading a book or brushing his teeth or just wandering the mindscape out of boredom.

Those always seemed to be the moments that his mind like to remind him how he had told off the warning.

~•~

Virgil didn't like Romulus, to say the least. He didn't like how Patton would look at him with so much joy and how Logan didn't seem to mind him at all. All he could feel about the King was the crippling sense of dread that seemed to take over him whenever he looked at the side.

So he wondered. Wondered if the two sides could hear him if he talked to Romulus. Wondered if they'd split again if they were told to. Wondered if Remus would hear him of he decided to apologise for being a jerk to them after leaving.

Yet, everytime he tried to get even near the royal, he would feel a suffocating sense of despair that would drive him to getting as far away from Romulus as possible, even if the man was just waving and smiling kindly at him.

Maybe tomorrow, he told himself every day.

~•~

"Ro we should talk to the little nightmare."

"Oh I'm sure he'll be fine soon, Remus. No need to worry!"

"Alright I guess..."

~•~

Stupid little good-for-nothing. He couldn't breath. He couldn't think properly. Oh god, what was happening? Why couldn't he breath? Why didn't you just tell him, you useless hypocrite?

Remus. Remus was gone. He hadn't apologised and now he'd never have the chance to.

You really are dumb. What made you think he would forgive you anyway? Especially after how you were that last time.

He used to be happy with them too. Just the three of them. The dark sides. The terror's of the mindscape. It was a fun time.

Him and Remus would cause trouble all the time, and then Janus would come after them and clean up their mess. Sometimes they'd pull pranks on the other residents of the mindscape. Sometimes they would just sit around with a few board games and a batch of cupcakes or cookies, stay up all night playing and later wake up and see that they had fallen sleep on the ground. Remus would always win Space Encounters and Candyland.

The thought of those times only made more tears slip out from his eyes and blur his vision.

Idiot.

Useless.

~•~

Janus would be lying if he said he didn't miss Remus, then again, he was Deceit. The darker part of the mindscape was now quiet without Remus' constant chatter.

He would be lying if he said he was happy with the arrangement.

But he'd also be lying if he said it wasn't helping Thomas.

Wasn't he a liar though?

~•~

"You've been quiet. Is something wrong?"

"..."

"Remus? Are you alright?"

"I-- Yeah, I'm fine. Do you know that if mermaid's existed, they'd have tp pee from their belly button?"

"...I did not need that imagery."

~•~

It was cold. Janus pulled the blanket over himself tighter. Once upon a time, Remus and Virgil would also huddle under it with him. But now Remus was gone and Virgil hated him and it was colder than ever.

He was pitiful, hiding under his blankets all day and flipping off anyone who came near him. It was just like when Virgil had dumped them for the 'Light' Sides.

Except back then Remus helped.

Back then Remus would ignore all the little things that bothered him, whether it was that Virgil didn't like them anymore or that his favourite show had ended. Instead he popped around his room with baked goods and cheesy comedy movies to try tonmake him feel better.

He wondered if he should just stay in his room forever, maybe then someone else would come for him.

~•~

Romulus didn't know when it started. At first it was just a tingling in his chest, a sensation of something being wrong.

Little by little, it got more and more, until its pain was unbearable. Until he could barely breath anymore. He fell to the ground.

~•~

"Are you there? You've been awfully quiet lately."

"..."

"Remus?"

"..."

"Remus?!"

~•~

Roman gasped as he got back om his feet. The split had left him in a daze. "Remus?" He looked around, panicking when his brother was nowhere to be seen.

He screamed when he realized what had happened.

Remus was gone.

There was no Duke now.

There was only the Prince.

~•~

A/N: All kinds of comments are appreciated. Short comments, Long comments, Very short comments, extra gigantic comments, Extra hearts, Hating me for creating this, EVERYTHING!

Taglist: @stationery-cum @meowthefluffy

#sympathetic remus #remus sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #deceit sanders #sanders sides #major character death #panic attacks #bad thoughts #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #sympathetic dark sides #grief/mourning

89 notes · View notes

ladybevr · 4 years ago

Note

Your comment about this being an attack on the monarchy for an agenda is the smartest I've read anywhere. Notice how all her answers and reveals were evasive? This would never cut the mustard in court because she's so obviously lying.

I didn’t watch or listen to it. I am basing my comments from what others reported her saying. But from what they said in their posts I also don’t think OW asked any really challenging questions. I think OW was in on it all and it was a collaboration between Ow, CBS, and MM to attack the Royal Family and weaken the Monarchy. I think several sections were quickly redone after the bullying charges came out and were quickly edited in. I bet that they started work on the reshoot yesterday and finished it up just before they went to air. The early clips released were to find out how the BRF and the people would react and just what measures the Queen might take after it was released. OW and CBS are no friend of the BRF or the people of the UK. It was planned as a distraction for the people of the USA and the UK and to damage the Monarchy and lend strength to those wanting a Republic in the UK. A Republic government like the USA has is easier to control and manipulate. Only those that can raise billions of dollars will win the primaries. Those who accept all that money in donations to their campaigns then owe those who donated favors once elected. They then have to work for those people and are controlled by those people. If they don’t then they will not be re elected. That is how all the governments in the west are controlled. These same people control all the media sites. In Britain and Canada it is harder to control basically buy the Politians. The USA is heading for another war in the middle east. It will serve as a distraction and as an excuse to not be able to fulfill their campaign promises. It will also serve to make the controllers of the government richer. There are many forms of slavery. One such form is when the middle class shrinks and the lower class grows and wages drop compared to the cost of living. People are scared of losing their jobs and not being able to find new ones. The Masters only pay a low wage but they don’t have to pay for housing, food and medical which in the past the slave owner had to pay for. But in many instances they can get the government to pay for some or all of it for them. Since they don’t pay their fair share of taxes it falls on the middle class to pay for the lower class modern day slaves. The feudal system was a kind of slavery as well. The peasants were dependant on the Lords for land to rent,, housing, food, and medical. and jobs/wages. The new elites want to be Lords even if they are not called that. They don’t want to have to bow to a Monarch or Prince. They want to be above them. They want the power to control the government. They want far more power than what the current Monarch has. So they will try to destroy the Monarchy and any form of government that they control. The people in the USA think that they control. by their vote the government. But they don’t. The elites control who runs in the primaries and the elections and they control the media so that the people elect who they want elected. Those elected are controlled by those who donated billions to their campaigns. Often those billions come from the people in the form of donations to the companies or organizations pacs. Donations to pacs are often required of employees by the companies. No poor man who has not promised his soul to the elites/Lords will not get the donations and therefore can not run a successful campaign and win. Sorry for carrying on. I am just in a bad mood tonight. Will be better tomorrow. I doubt that a whole lot will change. The Queen and Charles are to scared and to arrogant that they don’t think anyone would dare say such disrespectful things about them, especially not Harry. Ha ha. They have buried their heads in the sand. They have paid and supported the persons that are damaging them. Meghan and Harry are just tools for those wanting to see the Monarchy abolished. M and H have been flattered and manipulated by the abolishers. The abolishers have used their hatred and jealousy and need for attention to get them to do the dirty work And the biggest joke is that Charles and the Queen thus the UK taxpayers have paid for it all. The Queen won’t act because if she does then she has to do the same to Andrew plus it sets up a dangerous precedent for the future. Plus I think Phillip was the real strength behind the Queen through out her reign, not her. She should never have given Harry any titles and should have cut off all funding right from day one. But she was to scared and she let herself be manipulated and lied tp by Harry. Charles is a weakling and a coward. He is probably celebrating that he escaped and that William and Catherine were the ones attacked the most. The Queen is old and tired and not to much longer to live. But once she is gone their is going to be a major fight to keep Charles from becoming King. That is when the major fight to abolish the Monarchy and institute the Republic will occur. Those wanting the Republic have some major support including financial from the USA and Europe. Then the real battle will begin. Canada is also under attack in some ways from people from outside Canada to make the Canadian government be a Republic and it will probably happen after the Queen dies. I expect that Canada will have a referendum at that time and the majority of Canadians will vote for the abolishment of the Monarch as our head of state and for an elected Senate. We will probably end up a Republic just like the USA.

7 notes · View notes

culturekaizen · 4 years ago

Text

What Is Kaizen

In February 2019, an article on mlb.com by Greg Johns states: "The official motto of the (Seattle) Mariners' Spring Training -- as posted boldly on the team's clubhouse walls at the Peoria Sports Complex -- is "Kaizen." 1 Every year the manager of the team creates a mantra. "This year, (Manager Scott) Servais chose a Japanese word: Kaizen," writes Ryan Divish for the Seattle Times.2 What does kaizen mean? How does a word made famous by the Toyota Production System (TPS) in the lean manufacturing world become the motto for a professional baseball team?

Simply translated from Japanese to English, kai = change and zen = good. Kaizen essentially means good change; it is also commonly used to say continuous improvement, where small improvements over time produce big results. The core of lean manufacturing in the TPS is identifying and removing waste, maximizing processes that add value, and continuously improving the systems and processes of the organization. Kaizen is one of the foundations of the TPS because the entire philosophy is based on the idea that everything can be improved. Every process has the potential to be better tomorrow than it is today.

"It sounds like a mystical Japanese philosophy passed down by wise, bearded sages who lived in secret caves" say Brett and Kate Mckay.3 But we aren't talking about zen gurus who levitate above a foggy mountaintop in full lotus. We are talking about Toyota, arguably the best manufacturing system in the world. We are talking about a professional baseball team's season motto. How does kaizen go from zen monk, to titans of industry, to a sports team? Because it is such a simple concept. Everything can be better than it is now. Small improvements over time produce massive results. You don't have to change the entire system today, or in the next week, or even the next month. However, make a small incremental improvement every single day and you will have made large strides forward after a while.

I am a huge fan of Tim Ferriss and highly recommend both his bestselling books and world famous podcast. A theme that is constantly repeated by Tim is that when people try to learn a new skill, get rid of a bad habit, or implement a positive habit, they often start too big and end up failing very quickly. Just look at the classic New Years resolution to start going to the gym. Go to any gym the first week of January and it is packed with people who have the best intentions to change their lifestyle and become healthier, happier people. I applaud anyone who is trying to make this change in their life. But most of them drop out of the routine within a few weeks. Why? Often, they go cold turkey from not exercising at all to telling themselves they are going to go to the gym one hour per day, 5 days per week. That is a massive change for someone who is starting at zero or close to it. They make it the first two days, but on the third day, life or work or family get in the way and they miss a session. They start missing more days and pretty soon it's back to the way it was before. In this example, and many like it, the kaizen approach would be best. Rather than jumping from zero to one hour a day five days per week, start with 10 or 20 minutes one, two, or three days a week. Start small. Give yourself a goal that you can achieve so you don't feel like a complete failure when you don't live up to the unrealistic expectations you set for yourself. Build up from there. After all, 10 minutes of exercise two days a week is a hell of a lot better than zero. Pretty soon that turns into 15 minutes and then again becomes 3 days per week. Eventually, you might build up to the original goal. But small, incremental, continuous improvement got you there. Not diving in head first. Get the wheel turning and then use the momentum to keep moving forward.

"Big, giant goals can be awe-inspiring. But like many awe-inspiring things — a lion, a black hole, the Grand Canyon — they can also swallow you whole... Our quest to become better often feels like a roller coaster ride with its proverbial ups and downs. By the time you’re headed down Self-Improvement Mountain for the twentieth time, you’re vomiting out the side of your cart in self-disgust, cursing yourself that you once again bought a ticket to ride" write Brett and Kate McKay.3 Kaizen is the philosophy that will end your roller coaster of starting and stopping. In an article on inc.com titled Don't Try to Be the Best. Just Be 1% Better Every Day, James Altucher writes that if you can improve 1% every day "you will be 3800% better (38 times better!) in one year. Nobody does that. That's what superheroes do. You will be a superhero. Then everyone else will be worrying how they can compete with you." 4 Making that 1% change might not even be noticeable from one day to the next. But if you continue to making those 1% improvements over time, "you suddenly find a very big gap between people who make slightly better decisions on a daily basis and those who don't. (James Clear)." 5

Unfortunately for the Seattle Mariners, an article published by cbssports.com on September 6, 2019 was titled "The Mariners have been eliminated and the longest postseason drought in North American sports is one year longer." 6 Kaizen didn't end their historic playoff drought. However, Mike Axisa does write in that article "The Mariners have found some potential long-term building blocks this season." So one step better? Maybe. But professional sports are weird, and not always a reflection of real life. As the cliche saying goes, progress not perfection. Remember, kaizen is a philosophy and belief and system all at the same time. Believe that you can make everything better tomorrow than it is today. Use the system of small, manageable, incremental improvements and see where you land six months from now. One is more than zero, and two is twice as big as one. Those small numbers add up, as long as you believe change is possible.

Kaizen = Good change.

- Tyson

References:

"Mallex injury opens door for OF prospects," by Greg Johns, February 16, 2019, https://www.mlb.com/mariners/news/mallex-smith-injury-opens-door-for-prospects-c304044944

"Mariners Sunday mailbag: Explaining the Japanese origin of the team’s new slogan," by Ryan Divish, March 31, 2019 at 6:00 am Updated April 1, 2019 at 8:38 am, https://www.seattletimes.com/sports/mariners/mariners-sunday-mailbag-explaining-the-japanese-origin-of-the-teams-new-slogan/

"Get 1% Better Every Day: The Kaizen Way to Self-Improvement," by Brett and Kate McKay, July 31, 2020 • Last updated: September 5, 2020, https://www.artofmanliness.com/articles/get-1-better-every-day-the-kaizen-way-to-self-improvement/

"Don't Try to Be the Best. Just Be 1% Better Every Day," by Quora, written by James Altucher, NOV 15, 2016, https://www.inc.com/quora/dont-try-to-be-the-best-just-be-1-better-every-day.html

"Continuous Improvement: How It Works and How to Master It," by James Clear, https://jamesclear.com/continuous-improvement

"The Mariners have been eliminated and the longest postseason drought in North American sports is one year longer," by Mike Axisa, Sep 6, 2019 at 12:38 pm ET, https://www.cbssports.com/mlb/news/phillies-introduce-dave-dombrowski-as-new-president-what-to-make-of-his-j-t-realmuto-and-payroll-comments/

Other sources:

https://www.kaizen.com/what-is-kaizen.html

https://www.leanproduction.com/kaizen.html

https://theleanway.net/what-is-continuous-improvement

https://www.mindtools.com/pages/article/newSTR_97.htm

1 note · View note

saint357 · 5 years ago

Text

FOR THE HONOR OF GREY SKULL!

So since quarantine is driving me out of my mind I thought I would show everyone my latist sanity project. After making Connie's new sword from steven universe I thought I would try making a similar sword from my other favorite cartoon the new She-ra and the princesses of power on Netflix.

There you have it a work in progress sword of protection. I used a template I bought from a YouTube cosplayer and made it out of eva foam.

Honestly this whole project has been a exercise in problem solving. You might notice the blade and cross guard are different materials.

That's because I normaly use eva floor mats in my prop building but forget tp the floor mates are the real thing stores are sold out of I cant find them any anywear. Must be alot of boars cosplayers out there like me.

Luckily I had a roll of this other foam to make the cross guard and handel out of. Problem is its slightly smaller then the floor mat foam. So instead of being able to carve the cross guard details in like I was I originally planning. I had to build them up out of thin craft foam which actually came out looking really good.

But I thought I only had to build up the wings on the side so I cut a glued those first. Then realised I needed to bulk up the handle the the center piece as well. If I had know I would have saved my self alot of head ache and just the sides as one big piece. Oh well were always learning.

That's all I have for now I have grind the edges and bevel everything tomorrow to refine the shape. I got a new belt sander to do that with which I'm super excited to use I'll post more as progress is made. So till then peace love and death to the horde!

#cosplay weapon's #cosplay #she ra #She- ra and the princesses of power #foam props #foam swords #she-ra #she ra cosplay #cosplay builds #making stuff #build

16 notes · View notes

soysaucevictim · 4 years ago

Text

Week 5.

Jan. 30

I woke up a bit before 1PM today.

Did some dishes before I started on my exercise.

First, today’s DD. 1′ tucked side star plank hold (30″/30″). This was certainly an interesting challenge. One thing that helped my orientation was getting the top leg tucked before fully extending the same side’s arm upwards. I... kinda liked this one.

(After updating/posting last week’s logs...)

Last, Chapter 25 of the AoP. First segment was traveling again, 18TP. Done at Level 2, as high knees, and one go.

Workout proper was pretty much pure cardio and a lot of fun. I did it at Level 3, max rest. It went fairly smoothly - though there was one dodgy, but not painful landing on right ankle during one of the side-to-side jumps. I did like the moments where I locked in rhythm to the music I was listening too - that’s always satisfying.

Spent rest of night on a bit of the usual and some writing.

Went to bed obscenely late again, a bit later than yesterday.

Jan. 31

I woke up after 11AM.

One of the first things I got done today was exercise.

First, today’s DD. 10 cross body push-ups, done without EC. I SORT of manged EC, but deemed my form too sloppy to earn that. Did not go as deep and low to complete it with optimal form. Did try to get more out of it and compensate a little by doing it again at an incline again my bed. Felt slightly better about the form/loads.

Last, Chapter 26 of the AoP. First segment was more traveling, 42TP. Level 2, as high knees, and split into 12+10+10+10.

Did the workout proper at Level 3 (5 sets; 3x5 pushups + 2x10 squats + 10 jump squats per set), max rest. I chose to step into/out-of planks to dial down the aerobics a bit. Push-ups were so-so. But it was acceptable.

I then got to making today’s Hello Fresh Meal. Cavatappi beef ragù, It was okay. I wound up having to eat most of the leftovers. Might not be high on reprisal list for it.

Did some dishes and did another movie night with a friend. We watched Iron Man 1 & 2, tonight. It was a fun romp.

I did a bit of the usual and some writing, too.

Still got to bed obscenely late, but earlier than yesterday.

Feb. 1

I woke up after 10 AM.

Took a shower, did some laundry, made a phone call to fix my drug plan information (procrastinated on that one, lead to a couple days’ lapsing off my meds this week, bleh), and washed some accessories (face and night masks).

Then I got into today’s exercise.

First, today’s DD. 80 side leg raises with EC. Dis one side first and then the other here.

Last, Chapter 27 of the AoP. First bit was a very short amount of traveling, just 3TP. Did at Level 2, as high knees, in one go.

Did the workout proper at Level 3, max rest. I’m glad that no matter what level it’s done at, that there was just one plank jump-in per set (at Level 3, I had to do 20 reps of each of everything else for 10 sets.) Doing the cross chops made me almost want to do those with my bokken (but I’m pretty sure I’d bust something in my room... Doing Katana Week again is sounding like a lot of fun, down the line.)

Did most of the usual and a little bit of writing stuff, for rest of night.

I got to bed in the red zone still, but more than an hour earlier than yesterday.

Feb. 2

I woke up after 10AM.

Did some writing, dishes, and played some games of rummy with grandma and Dad. Then I did today’s exercise.

First, today’s DD. 30 split lunges with EC (15/15). Manageable work.

Last, Chapter 28 of the AoP. Look, I was NOT looking forward to doing this. Because balance work - the last set BLIND.

Had one brief drop in my last sighted set - #4 - but I quickly strung together that side’s 10 reps for the balance knee-to-elbow crunches. Set #5 pissed me the fuck off. Managed to string the first side on right foot okay, SECOND side I had to fucking try what felt like over 10 gawd damn times to string it. I HATE blind balance work so fucking much. =_=

But I know in my heart of hearts, that’s more reason to actually practice this skill set. It can be invaluable to try to practice balancing work without visual cues - great for injury prevention especially as one gets older and may experience failing vision and generally worse recovery times from injuries.

One of these days, I’ll learn to be less salty about it. Today is not and was not one of those days.

The usual and some writing happened. So did our microwave deciding to die on us (will get a new one to replace it soon).

I got to bed in the red zone still, but about an hour earlier than yesterday.

Feb. 3

I woke up after 10AM.

After a bit of the usual, did today’s exercise.

First, today’s DD. 20 W-extensions with EC. Very doable. Still stuck my desk at least once, but never dropped/stopped for this.

Last, Chapter 29 of the AoP. First part was some travel - 15TP. Done at Level 2, as high knees, in one go.

Second part was a very doable cardio workout, done at Level 3 (15 sets, 1′ rest). Enjoyed doing the jumping jacks. Worked up a bit of a sweat, too.

Last part was 100 climbers, specified in one workout. I did this in one go. Pretty manageable work, for current level of fitness.

Spent most of day chatting and the usual. Did make dinner, but I was so out of it due to med lapse that I did document a pretty bad BFRB spell. (Microwave situation not helping matters.)

I managed to get to bed in the yellow zone, tonight. Partly in consideration for me needing to be up earlier enough to prepare for tomorrow’s appointment.

Feb. 4

I woke up after 10AM.

Spent some time logging and preparing notes for my appointment today.

Then, I only got in today’s DD for exercise. 50 plank leg raises with EC. New formatting choice on DAREBEE’s side made me wonder if I should do 25/25 or alternating - chose to do the latter.

Then went to my psych appt. It was kind of a mixed experience that I don’t feel like getting into.

After some of the usual... another family blow-up occurred. I lost all motivation/energy to WO. Yeah, not going to get into it over here... vented on the personal twitter enough.

I got to bed in the green zone. I felt like shit.

Feb. 5

I woke up around 7AM, today,

Had a dental appointment to get to. Which went alright. Nice to swing by the Starbucks afterwards, before getting taken home.

Was exhausted enough by the time I got back to take a nap for a couple hours.

Went into my exercise after that and a small snack.

First, today’s DD. 50 jumping jacks with EC. Very doable work. Would be tempted to do more, but I had a brutal workout ahead of me to be contending with, today.

Last, Chapter 30 of the AoP. First segment of things was traveling again. 57 TP. Done at Level 2 as high knees. Split this into 17+4(10).

Workout proper kicked my ass, but I still managed to get through Level 3. Probably the least fun and most dodgy aspect to it was the jump knee tucks part. I pulled in my planks for transitions with a jump, but mixed it up between stepping/jumping out into planks. Mostly to moderate intensity levels a touch - especially some sources/loads of impact.

Opted to pick the option to continue the story.

After that, made today’s Hello Fresh Meal. Za’atar crusted grilling cheese with sumac roasted veggies and couscous. I liked this pretty well, first time I’ve tried sumac before. I’m kind of proud of myself for thinking of cherries/plums when I tasted that spice (as it turned out that those were related fruits.) Probably coulda went a bit easier on the overall oil usage and grilled the cheese at a lower level (to have better integrity).

I spent rest of night on the usual stuff. I got to bed barely into the red zone.

#adventures with fitness #adventures with hello fresh #family shit/#(honestly? most of this week sucked for me... bleh...)

1 note · View note

breg21 · 5 years ago

Text

Ladynoir Month: Comfort

Ao3 FFN

@ladynoirjuly2019

Ugh, I wanted to get this posted before 12 am. But my friends wanted to stay out and do stuff, do I got back late. Dang it. I'm sorry guys! But, I'm going back home tomorrow, so everything should resume as normal. Lots of love guys! Night!

The first time they truly got breathe was a week and a half after everything happened.

The funeral was held, and surprisingly, most of Paris showed up, maybe some were to pay condolences, and others were to say good riddance, Adrien wasn't sure, but he was too drowned out by his own thoughts to really care.

Ladybug and Chat had just finished patrol when they ran home, and dropped into Marinette's hatch landing on her bed with a small bounce. They didn't bother to drop their transformation for a while, too tired to even think the words, let alone say them. It had been a lot to digest in such a short amount of time.

His bugaboo must've sensed the stress radiating off of him, because without warning, he was being pulled into her arms as she started to pet the spot right behind his ear where she knew that would be a sure fire way to start his pur.

How could she do that without thought? She probably never tell.

"You can cry you know." She breathed into his hair. "It's okay to let out now. You're safe."

Everything in him just broke in that second. Everything came tumbling out and he clutched her even closer to him and his tail moved on its own accord to wrap around her waist to keep them both there. "Why?" He cried. "Why, did it have to be him?"

She pressed a few tender kisses to the top of his head, continuing to play with his hair. "I don't know, kitty. I wish I did." It sounded as if she had a few tears in her throat as well. "I wish I could take this away for you."

He shook his head against the crock of her neck, not allowing her to take any of the blame. "It's not your responsibility, nor your burden, m'lady. So, don't even try."

She huffed, but otherwise said nothing.

"I wanna elope."

Chat wasn't sure who was more shocked by the words that left his mouth, him or her. They both stiffened and when he fully realized what he said, he hastily tacked on. "I don't mean yet, unless you wanted to of course, but more like when we're ready and we want to, I just don't think a big wedding is something for us really anymore and-"

A hand was pressed to his lips to cut off his rambling. Her pure ocean eyes looking up at him through thick lashes with nothing but adoring love and saved only for him. As if when she looked at him, all she saw was safety, home and everything she ever wanted. He was hers, and she was absolutely happy with that claim, as was he.

It had a weird sort of effect on him where it made him feel whole. Because of her, he would never be gone. She simply wouldn't allow it, always pulling him back in when the darkest thoughts started to stir.

But she always did, didn't she? "I think that sounds perfect, kitty." She said with her eyes that made hin fall under her spell and breathless. "With our parents there, of course."

He nodded easily. Anything she wanted, she got— he didn't need to give her vows to already to do so. His head started to race at the idea of her becoming his wife, the fact that she wanted that as much as he wanted to."And Nino and Alya."

She smirked and snuggled in further if possible. Still wasn't close enough if his opinion. "And Kagami and Luka. Kagami would be so mad at me if I didn't invite her."

He snorted, running a claw through her hair. "I still hear people whisper about how you two being friends and how weird it knowing that you both had feelings for me."

Hsi lady shrugged. "They can think what they like. Kagami's an awesome person, and a great friend. I'm not gonna fret over what other people think about her and I being friends."

He laughed, and for the first time in days, it sounds halfway real. "You are something else, bugaboo, truly." And dipped his head to brush his lips softly against hers.

She returned the kiss eagerly before pulling back and running her nose along his in a quick Eskimo kiss. "But I'm yours." Another kiss to his lips and he thought he might actually die from the contact. "And I'm more than happy with that."

She had to know what she did to him, it was impossible for her not to. But that was okay. Staring into her endless eyes, the outside world vanished as it always did. He loved having his own world right here. So happy and real. "Gosh do I love you."

Because even in this horrible time, she stood next to him, stuck through the tough times, and didn't judge with an ounce of resentment even when she had more than enough reason to do so. It amazed him. She amazed him. She held him, supported him when he felt like he was going to fall. His true other half.

It really showed him what a home was supposed to be. She always knew how to make sure he wasn't alone, even when the world was trying to run him into the ground. But she would pick him up, so the world could forget itself

She giggled once more and nipped his bottom lip. "So you've said. For what it's worth, I love you too."

And hearing those words were worth more than any diamond that could be found. He could hear it a million times a day, yet he'd never got tired of it. Nor would her kisses, hugs, cuddles, or anything involving her.

He couldn't help but mimic her. "So you've said."

She smacked his chest and with a quick whisper, dropped her mask and watched as Tikki flew away.

He copied her, and smiled happily at the sight of Plagg zipping over tp get some nightly cuddles with Tikki.

Making sure the comforter was pulled up on both of them to keep the cold away, Adrien brushed her bangs away and pressed a good night kiss to Marinette's forehead, sighing in content at the sound of her breathing evening out for the night, causing a domino effect to his own. It was such one of many comforts he could, a reassurance, to hear that sound.

Because having his world in his arms as he slowly slipped into sleep, was the biggest comfort he could ever get in his lifetime. And he knew that would never change. And he knew that, in the midst of his world changing all over the place, this would never change.

"Are they asleep?"

Emilie nodded as she tiptoed down the stairs as to not to wake the sleeping tens just upstairs. She went into the kitchen to sit next to Sabine to take the cup of tea she offered in her hands, looking like she might need to be in bed herself. "Snuggled up sung as a bug."

Sabine smiled as she brought the cup to her lips. "Good. They need their rest. Its been hard on them lately."

"I'm thankful they have each other." Emilie sighed. "I think they're keeping each other afloat all of this mess."

Her friend nodded. "I think so too. I wouldn't be near as comforted in knowing all they're gonna face if they didn't have each other."

"That's for sure." Emilie paused to collect her full thoughts. "As long as they have each other, they'll be good, they'll make it through."

"Yeah." Sabine agreed. "They'll be okay."

#ladynoirjuly2019 #LadyNoir #ml #mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug

18 notes · View notes

qqueenofhades · 6 years ago

Text

with hearts like wars and lips like scars

Surprise, surprise, I have officially arrived in this dumpster and there appears to be no getting out. This is my first-ever effort at writing for these two (as well as my first MCU fic, I think), so please be gentle, as I have watched ten episodes of The Punisher over three days and have a lot of emotions. I am New Here and just want to play a bit in the sandbox.

Tagging @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings, and @prairiepirate because they know what they did.

Set immediately post-1x10 of TP. Rated T.

Karen takes the subway home.

It seems almost like a strange thing to do, banal, ordinary. Half of her can’t see why it shouldn’t be. Once the feds and the cops and the crime-scene cleanup crews can’t think of anything else they need to do to her, she’s politely taken Agent Madani’s card – you two have a connection, like this is some game show, maybe – and retrieved her bloodstained purse, she ducks into the bathroom long enough to be sure she won’t cause any more public hysteria, then steps out and walks to the subway. There are still plenty of flashing lights surrounding the hotel, she gets checked one more time before she can leave the police cordon, and finally, nakedly, she’s on the street, alone. She looks up at the sky, for half a second. No idea who she expects to see fly by. Iron Man?

There is some interest in the scene, and Karen gets goggled at briefly, but New Yorkers are New Yorkers, and it’s nothing they haven’t seen before. The grumbling seems mostly to be about how it’ll fuck up the evening commute, and she briefly wonders who all these people are, who she is, that they just live here and accept it as the price they have to pay. She feels dreamy and numb and oddly uncaring. She fishes her Metro card out of her purse and stands coolly on the platform in the cold drench of the fluorescents, keeps turning her head and looking too long at any tallish man in a dark hooded sweatshirt. Of course it’s not him, not since he climbed out of the roof of the elevator and she – and she –

(Karen doesn’t know how that sentence ends, and doesn’t know if she should.)

She waits until the subway pulls in, realizes too late it’s the local 1-train and not the express, and gets stuck calling all stops, until she gets off at Times Square to switch trains. There is something alluring about the idea of being lost in the crowd, nobody looking at her twice. Karen sees people more worried about the whole thing than she ever was and wonders why she doesn’t give a damn. Well, it’s not that, not exactly. Just that if you consider that she was the one grabbed by a crazed bomber and nearly blown to the same red mist that he ended up as, pulverized on the inside of an industrial freezer, she should be the one most upset. Life and death twisted between her fingers, red wire or white. She couldn’t let on. She couldn’t look down. She had to keep her eyes on Frank’s, and trust him.

She did. She does. The only one in the city again, probably. When after they’ve been subject to actual fucking alien attacks and destructive galactic warlords and whatever else, somehow one man, one loner in black, is Public Enemy Number One. It makes sense if you think about it, the way humans are, the way they’ll determinedly ignore the most ridiculous and insane shit but throw fits over the smallest thing. The headlines are ginning up to be good and hysterical. The Punisher Returns! Clear-as-day picture from cop car dashcam footage. Karen is the only one who knows it’s a lie. The Punisher didn’t return. Frank Castle left.

(Frank Castle left.)

(She closes her eyes and tries, yet again, to make her peace with that.)

It’s getting dark by the time Karen walks up to her apartment, the familiar drone of a siren going a few streets over and kids loitering on the steps. She climbs past them, digs for her keys, collects her mail, and wonders if she remembered to buy milk; she thinks she was getting low. Just getting back from a normal day at work, evidently. Nothing more.

Her phone buzzes maniacally in her bag, now that she’s out from underground and has reception again, and she finally remembers it, takes it out, and sees about forty missed calls and texts from Foggy. At least he, not being a savage, has had the decency to check up on her, since it’s probably on the news that a Bulletin reporter was caught up in the mess, and Wilson was open about targeting her. Karen thinks that while she might know a few too many vigilantes for peace of mind and quiet life, she’s just as cussedly stubborn about running into the punches. Pick your battles, pick fewer than that, that’s too many, put some back, it’s just as much her as it is Matt or Frank. She didn’t have to go on the radio and she didn’t have to defy the whole damn establishment like that, but she did. Maybe that’s why she and the other kind get along.

Karen unlocks her door and pushes it open, dropping her coat and bag on the back of the couch and shutting and bolting the door. She thumbs out a quick text to Foggy reassuring him that she’s fine, which – if the phone buzzing again thirty seconds later is any indication – doesn’t really do the trick. She picks up. “Yeah. Hey. I just got home, I’m fine.”

“I haven’t been able to get in touch with you for like, six hours.” Foggy sounds accusing. “Karen, what the hell happened? That bomber – ”

“It’s all right.” Karen toes off her heels and tucks the phone under her chin, padding into her kitchen to see what can be scraped together. “I was on the subway. And before that, they had interviews and other things they wanted to do. Like I said, I’m home now.”

“Jesus, Karen.” Poor Foggy Nelson; being friends with Matt Murdock and Karen Page is not a job for the faint of heart. He pauses before the next question, as Karen can almost hear the name being shaped in the air and knows it’s coming. “Is it true that he’s back?”

They don’t need to define “he,” though Karen feels a momentary urge toward deliberate obstinacy. She loves Foggy to death, but she doesn’t know if she wants to get into this with him. She hasn’t told either of them about her intermittent, secret meetings with Frank, the way that she told him he would be dead to her if he murdered Schoonover, and then when he improbably turned up again months later, disguised as a hobo asking for change, her only emotion was relief. She kept wondering if she might hold a grudge, but she knew fairly quickly that was a lie. She didn’t want to. She just wanted to see him again. Strange, how that always seems to be the place they end up in. Truncated. Unfinished. Unmended.

Foggy is still waiting for an answer, and Karen doesn’t know what to tell him. She opens the fridge, sees a few Chinese takeout boxes, a wilting head of lettuce, a bodega bag she stuffed in and has forgotten what’s actually in there. Maybe she can boil some pasta, there might be some in the cupboards. She opens it. To the phone she says, “The police are doing their job, I’m sure they’ll figure out everything that’s going on. Tell Matt that I’m okay.” She doesn’t want to ask if Matt noticed. She assumes he does care. She is not, however, in the mood for whatever moral high horse he would be bound to hop on in regard to Frank. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Foggy. Okay?”

With that, not leaving him a chance to point out that she never answered his question, Karen hangs up, and tosses her phone onto the counter. It spins a few times, hits the fruit bowl (or at least, what would be a fruit bowl if she ever went to the supermarket) and as she steps over and opens the cupboard in search of victuals, she catches sight of the browning roses tucked in their vase against the back wall. Their stems are dry and brittle, their petals dropping, and she should probably throw them away, but she finds her hands unexpectedly freezing. White roses. That was how he thought she should get in contact with him. Not a burner phone or anything else like that. I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. Seriously?

Karen finds her mouth quirking up into a brief smile. Then – she doesn’t know why, but still – she impulsively grabs the vase, runs more water into it like that will suddenly bring them back to life, and sticks it in the window, where it’s visible from the street. She’ll throw them out tomorrow. She’ll make peace with it then.

She boils a little pasta, sloshes the last of the Prego béchamel sauce over it, and mixes it up in a bowl, standing at the counter to eat. As she takes a bite, the heat stings undiscovered cuts in her mouth, and she grimaces, spitting it back and breathing hah-hah-hah until the burning subsides. She’s more wary about the next forkful, but she’s hungry, and it doesn’t take long in disappearing. Then she puts the bowl in the sink – wash it tomorrow too, apparently – and checks her phone again, this time to answer messages from Ellison. No, she does not expect to miss her deadline. She avoids the question on what on earth she was thinking. She was just there to interview Senator Ori. A journalist cannot be blamed for that.

Karen walks into her bathroom, pulls her hair out of its loose knot, and lets it tumble down her shoulders. Strips off the blue silk blouse, dotted with blood, and decides that true to the emerging pattern, she will worry about how to get the stains out later. Opens her medicine cabinet, digs out Bactine and band-aids and hydrogen peroxide, and hisses and winces as she dabs at the shrapnel cuts on her face. The paramedics took care of most of them back at the hotel, but there are still a few extra. She was, after all, publicly held hostage by a terrifying killer, gun to her chin, dragged into an elevator. Can’t blame her for being shaken.

Karen sets her chin, looks at herself in the mirror, wonders if you’re supposed to cry just to release the stress hormones or however it makes you feel better, and doesn’t think she has any likelihood of weeping for herself. She strips off the skirt and the frayed pantyhose, runs a shower, and steps in, letting the water cascade over her head and shoulders until it finally turns lukewarm and she cranks it off, old pipes creaking. She wraps a towel around herself and brushes her hair until it likewise falls into a monotony. Ritual cleanliness. Lady Macbeth and her spot. Have to keep washing until it finally comes out. Karen doesn’t know why. It’s not her spot.

At last, she shakes her damp hair back, steps out of the hot steamy bathroom into the comparative shocking coldness of the hall, and goes into her bedroom to put on her pajamas. There is a strange, hollow, echoing emptiness in her chest that’s different from ordinary trauma or the receding of shock, something she doesn’t want to think about. Wants to get into bed with enough quilts to feel their weight, to be pressed down into the mattress, to sleep for a hundred years, or at least until the alarm has to go off tomorrow morning. The world will make more sense then, be settled back into place. That, and then she can –

Frank Castle is standing on her balcony.

For a long moment, for a brief and wild eternity, Karen is completely sure that she is hallucinating him. That she has somehow called him up from whatever hinterland he’s gone back to, that this is just some mirage of a stressed and tired mind, that of course she’s seeing him only because she wants to. She doesn’t know how on earth he would have gotten up here, if he was real – parkoured his ass up? It seems to fit the dramatic necessity – but then, how or why Frank does anything is usually the mootest of points. When she blinks hard a few more times and he’s still there, when he catches her eye through the glass and seems set to jump back down if it’s not what she wants, she is forced to accept that he, somehow, is actually there. She remains where she is an instant more, then shoves the window open and hisses, “Frank? What the hell, Frank!”

He grabs the frame and limbers through, elegant as a cat. He lands on his feet like one too, but he straightens up slowly and with evident pain. There’s still dried blood on the side of his head where the bullet grazed him, he’s moving carefully enough that there must be another, and Karen has a brief and confused impression of him bodily diving in front of a shotgun to ensure that wasn’t her. His shoulder looks fucked up too, and she fights the brief and pointless impulse to tell him to go to the hospital. Of course the Punisher can’t walk into St. Luke’s or wherever else, with the entire city on the lookout for him again. Wherever he’s been living, whatever urban shithole he’s stayed off the grid, who knows. And even though she should, as they stare at each other, Karen can’t tell him to go.

“What are you doing here?” she manages at last, in half a whisper. “It’s dangerous.”

Frank grunts, almost amused, as if he can’t believe she’s actually saying that to him after the day they’ve had. He does, Karen supposes, have a point, and he tips his head at the flowers. “Saw them. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Karen wants to ask how he saw them, but she gets the sense that Frank is working with somebody who has a whole lot of cameras and is not afraid to use them. They stand a few feet apart, her clean and damp and pink-faced, hair loose in shining blonde locks, warm from the shower, and him filthy and bloody and dressed in black, having climbed all the way up here with God knows what injuries just because he caught sight of a bunch of dead flowers. Karen feels absurdly guilty, as if she should have taken more care at calling him up, that she has this power and perhaps needs to go wary in how she uses it. They stare at each other a moment more, and she shakes her head. “God, you’re still a mess. Don’t you have anyone to look at that?”

“Normally a guy named Curtis would do the honors. But he got the shit kicked out of him earlier by our friend.” Frank’s mouth tightens, and he looks away. “Didn’t feel like I should impose again.”

Karen has some sense of Frank mentioning him earlier during the face-off with Wilson, something about the bomb that Curtis had been strapped to, and that they needed to pull the white wire, then and now, to stop it. A brief shudder passes over her, the fear she didn’t feel then, when it was nothing but instinct and adrenaline and the unshakeable knowledge that if she wasn’t walking away from here alive, neither was Frank. Live or die, they were doing it together, and she lets out a slow, shaky breath. Then she says, “Go sit down.”

Frank seems about to argue, smartly decides against it after a glance from her, and painfully makes his way to one of the kitchen chairs. He sits down, ready to spring up again in an instant at any sudden noise or knock, if some enterprising cop tailed him here, and Karen wonders briefly if she really should let him stay. That thought is dismissed as soon as it comes, and she goes to pull the curtains shut, then returns to the bathroom to collect her first-aid kit. Having Matt Murdock in your life means you own a decent one, and while Karen is no Claire Temple, she knows a thing or two.

She comes out with it and sets it on the kitchen counter, as Frank turns his head, regrets it, and winces. Then he says, more gravelly than usual, “Karen. You don’t have to fix me up.”

“Hold still.” Karen pulls on a pair of blue rubber gloves and tears open an antiseptic wipe, dabbing at the crusted blood along the shaved side of Frank’s undercut, as he jerks but doesn’t make a sound otherwise. The bullet has left a corrugated gash, but she should thank either his reflexes, for being fast, or his goddamn skull, for being so thick, and she holds his chin with her other hand as she works. As ordered, Frank stays unnaturally still, like a big cat in the scrub remaining motionless for a human to approach it, but she can feel his breathing. It takes almost a dozen wipes to get the blood off, and she cuts a length of gauze, folds it into a pad, and presses it into the wound. Of course, running around for hours after you’ve been shot in the head, no matter how glancingly, doesn’t help. God, he’s stubborn.

There’s no sound except the muffled thump of someone’s music from down the hall, and the hiss and sigh of the radiators. The atmosphere is strange, slow, heightened, like in the immediate aftermath of the blast when they found themselves on the floor, battered and breathless, and turned toward each other, drawn like magnets, as she reached out to touch his chest and his hand cupped her head, shielding, checking to see if she was all right, the roughness of his callused fingers tangling in her hair. Karen discovers that her throat is oddly dry, that she has to swallow, as she cuts surgical tape and tamps the gauze in place. Then she says, “What about the other one? Let me see that.”

“It’s – ” Frank shifts tersely. “Karen – ”

“You took a goddamn bullet for me,” she snaps. “Let me see.”

He blows out a frustrated breath, but reaches for his shirt and slowly peels it over his head, grimacing again as the blood-sodden fabric sticks to the wound and comes away with an unpleasant sucking sound. It’s mottled and bruised, an entry and exit hole visible on ribs and back, so at least the bullet isn’t in there; Karen is not nearly skilled enough for extraction surgery. She notices, in a sudden and matter-of-fact way, that Frank is ripped. Not that you would expect otherwise, the sort of things he does, but this is the first time she has had the chance to inspect the results at close range, and it does something to her, makes something flutter low and hot in her stomach. She looks away. She’d rather he didn’t see that.

Karen pours some disinfectant on another gauze pad and dabs at the wound, feeling like this is just window-dressing to make her feel better rather than anything about to actually help, but Frank silently tolerates her attentions. She tapes another dressing into place, looks at his shoulder, and decides that while it indeed may be partially dislocated, she isn’t sure how to put it back. It’s clearly causing him significant pain, he doesn’t need to be at a disadvantage if someone comes after him, and she’s just trying to think if she can Google “how to reset shoulder” on WebMD when Frank says, “Grab my elbow. Line it up with the joint. I’ll tell you when you have the right angle.”

She looks at him, startled, then takes hold of his arm, lifting and bracing it, as Frank wriggles around awkwardly to try to give her the correct degree of torque. “When I count three,” he says, slightly breathless, “you whip it up hard and straight, you’ll hear a pop when it goes in. Keep it at that angle. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Karen takes a better grip, adjusting the angle slightly as he beckons with his chin. She waits as Frank counts, and then on three, does as ordered, with a brief fear she’ll break his arm. There’s a horrible wet scraping sound but no pop, he swears in pain, and she lets go, with another stab of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, come on,” Frank rasps. “I thought it might take a couple tries. Grab it, Karen. Good girl. Again. One – two – three – ”

This time, there’s a brief, fierce resistance, she can feel it running through the whiplash cord of his muscles and then into hers like an electrical current, and there is a grate and an undeniable pop as Frank’s shoulder snaps back into joint. He lets out a heartfelt “Fuck” of relief, massaging at his collarbone, and grimaces, blowing out a breath and dashing the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “That’s better.”

“Here.” Karen takes the ibuprofen bottle and shakes out several rust-colored pills. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything stronger.”

Frank glances at her ironically, as if in acknowledgement that she pre-empted his question, then scoops the pills up and chokes them down dry. Karen goes to get him a glass of water, which he drinks, then clears his throat. “I should – I should get going. Micro’s probably already shitting bricks about this whole thing.”

“Micro?”

“Guy I’m working with,” Frank says, not particularly helpfully, but this at least makes Karen feel briefly better that he is not attempting this damned-fool idealistic crusade completely single-handed. “He can be a goddamn mother hen sometimes.”

“Someone should look out for you.” Karen can’t quite stop herself from reaching out for him, as if to cup his cheek, though her hand doesn’t entirely get there. Frank tilts his head back, his brown eyes shadowed almost black in the crappy lights of her apartment, and their gazes meet, the undercurrent of earlier, whatever it was between them in that instant in the elevator when their foreheads touched and their mouths were close and… Karen knows about Maria, of course. Knows that Frank can’t bear to let go of his wife, not now, not with the job not done, and she doesn’t want to distract from or dishonor that. And yet.

The moment remains heightened between them, as the tip of her fingers brush ever so slightly against his jaw. It’s the briefest and most innocent of touches, but Frank tenses as if it’s been something far different. Of course nobody touches him with kindness. Nobody touches him without intending to break him, more than he already is, takes defiant pride in already being in so many pieces that they cannot do any worse. And yet, Karen thinks, that is not entirely true. If she had died today, if he had not been able to save her, something else would have broken among all his halls and halls of shattered mirrors. Something fundamental, and permanent, and painful. She doesn’t know if she wants to have that responsibility, that weight on his much-abused heart, and yet she does nonetheless.

Frank turns his head as if he’s about to kiss her fingers, like that kiss on the cheek in the darkness down by the bridge, when they met after the car accident with Madani. He stops himself, of course, if not entirely in time to disguise what he was going to do. Karen pulls her hand back, self-conscious, and he gets to his feet. “Thanks, Karen. I’ll see myself out.”

She wants to tell him that he’s an idiot, an idiot, that he doesn’t have to run alone across the city to whatever lonely bed might await down whatever miserable hole, but as well established, Karen Page knows too many vigilantes. She bites her tongue instead, wanting to at least offer him a hot shower and something to eat (what? Her pasta leftovers? Maybe she can warm up the Chinese?) but she knows he won’t accept. He’s already come all this way to see that she’s safe, she ended up taking care of him, the city is still looking for him, and he will take no chance of being caught here. But even with all this being the case, she doesn’t know how she’s just going to – well. To just let him go. Again. Always. Maybe one day that cycle will end, but it is not today. It is not now.

“Frank.” Her voice is tremulous. “Take care of yourself.”

He looks at her for a long moment, those shadowed eyes and that craggy, broken nose, that hard mouth and the jarhead buzz cut, so many hard edges somehow softened past bearing when his gaze is fixed on her, and only her. He seems about to say something else, then gives it up as a bad job. He takes half a step, reaches her, and grips the back of her head, drawing their foreheads together. They share breath, their eyelashes flutter, her lips part as if in instinctive and unspeakable need for a kiss, but Frank does not kiss her. He tilts her chin back and presses his mouth to the pulse point on her neck, raw and unformed, devoted, desperate, as if he needs, if nothing else, to feel the echoes of her living, beating heart. He holds her against him for another moment, their breathing heavy with unspoken, unshared words, and then he lets her go, with impossible tenderness. He says in a rasp, “Lock the door.”

Karen manages a tight little nod, lips pressed white, clenching her fingers into her palm until she can feel the crescent moons of her nails. She goes to the door with him, as if bidding him good night after a pleasant evening, and as he looks at her again, it takes all her effort not to kiss him then and there, Maria or no Maria, vengeance or punishment, death or dishonor. But she can’t, and he can’t, and so, somehow, she opens the door again and does not need to tell him to be careful. He steps out, and she waits until he is out of sight, and then, as ordered, she locks it. The bolt is heavy as iron in her hands.

Karen turns, and goes into her bedroom, and lies down on her bed, in the darkness. When she closes her eyes, Lewis Wilson’s maddened face swirls up behind it, until it vanishes in a bloom of ravening flame, and she opens them again with a jerk. She will get over this, she supposes. She always does. But it still takes her a while to close them again.

She sleeps. Not all that well, and broken with uneasy dreams, but she does. She is awakened, as ever, by her alarm the next morning, as if – just as she wanted – everything has snapped back into place like that reset joint, as if the world will go back to whatever normality it possesses, which seems to be quite little in this corner of Hell’s Kitchen sometimes. She gets up. She walks into the kitchen. Thinks about how she’ll get to work. Opens the cupboard, then glances over, reflexively, at the window

The dead flowers are still there. She needs to throw them out. And yet, that’s not the only thing. A fresh bouquet of white roses has been laid on the balcony, glistening with morning dew. An apology, perhaps. A goodbye. Another message. It could be anything. Who knows how long it will be before she sees him again to ask.

Karen opens the window, takes them inside. Cuts the stems and puts them in a new vase. Then gets dressed, grabs her purse and her keys, steps out of the apartment, and does not look back.

#mcu #the punisher #kastle #kastle ff

110 notes · View notes

neutron-stars-collision · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 5 - A Question of Trust

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: First day in New York brings new challenges and fears. But one thing is certain, your relationship with Neil is changing.

Warnings: Minor cursing.

Author’s Notes: So this is sort of an unplanned early update because I loved what I wrote and had to share it with you. Hope you enjoy this quieter chapter before things kick off very soon...

Also this has been severely inspired by ‘A Question of Lust’ by Depeche Mode so I’ll post the link in another post!

Despite being severely jet-lagged, the next two days, you did not get much rest. You and Neil were thoroughly briefed by the TP on Saturday, and the plan seemed simple: arrive in New York; check into the hotel; research the target (a weapons dealer named Steiner); set up a meeting with Mr. Steiner; rehearse the cover; get intel; leave New York unscathed but with valuable information.

You have received a Glock (just in case), a burner phone with emergency contacts, and a dossier filled with the information about your cover. As far as you have managed to learn so far, you and Neil were supposed to pose as ‘partners in crime’ hoping to get your hands on the mysterious nuclear material. It did seem easy. But that did not help the stress you felt the closer you got to the departure.

Monday morning, you stepped onto the Amtrak train to New York Penn Station and followed Neil to the First-Class compartment. You had two seats with a large table and a window in a relatively quiet carriage. This time, sadly, you have not taken your notes with you and have been desperately looking for a distraction. Neither of you has mentioned the moment on the terrace, and you felt like it was a cause of mild tension. But instead of addressing it in any way, you decided to stare out of the window. After going through the same onboard magazine for the third time, you heard Neil clear his voice deliberately. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow:

“I’m bored” he shrugged and grinned at your eye roll “Want to talk?”

You searched his face for any signs of wicked intents. But he seemed genuinely interested.

“As long as you won’t make me drink again and embarrass myself” you turned towards him with a pointed look.

“I promise” he smiled and leaned onto the table separating your seats

“However I must correct you and say that you haven’t embarrassed yourself on the plane” when you glared at him with disbelief, he added “At all”

“If you say so”

His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you with fondness that made you want to turn away. But you held his gaze until he grinned and asked:

“Excited to go on your first mission?”

“If by excited you mean scared then yeah” he laughed, and you beamed back “Though I suppose if my first outing is with you I should consider myself lucky”

“Oh you’re certainly lucky in that regard” he winked, grinning smugly “I’ll keep you entertained”

The smirk and look in his eyes were far from innocent and you felt your face heat up at the sight. But you did not want to let him win easily.

“I’ve no doubts about that” you stared back defiantly.

Your staring contest finished when he smiled and reached out for your hands that were folded on the table. He squeezed them.

“We’ll manage just fine together, I’m sure. It’s a simple mission” he reassured you softly.

“Can’t say I’m convinced” you looked back sceptically and frowned “I’m a bit surprised you’re willing to go into the field with a rookie”

“TP said it has to be us” he shrugged and leaned back into his seat.

Your hands felt cold without his touch.

“You do trust him enough to do anything he says?” you asked with curiosity.

All that you have learned during the meeting with the Protagonist was still fresh on your mind. You struggled to understand how on earth you could be important to the story. But it was made quite clear that you would have to wait for any answers.

“Yes” Neil’s tone was quite serious “I’ve learnt from past mistakes that he really does know how things will go”

You haven’t missed the distant look of sadness in his eyes. You made a mental note to one day learn the story. He must have noticed your scrutiny as he schooled his features and added:

“And it’s better to listen to him. No matter how difficult it might be” he looked at you with a faint smile.

You did wonder if he thought about the moment on the terrace in that instant. But before you could dare ask, he closed the subject with a definite statement:

“I know for a fact that you’ll be much better than a random rookie” he grinned, and despite feeling conflicted, you smiled back.

Then he quickly changed the topic to New York itself, and you rather enjoyed talking to him about your travels and experiences with other cities. While you were still stressed, when you arrived at Penn Station, you were much less tense. The conversation has distracted you enough to forget about the worries. You wondered if that was why Neil wanted to talk in the first place.

*** You took a taxi to the hotel, which was situated far off from the main city centre. It was a comfortable and stylish four-star establishment with a booking system that did not mind fake identities. Your rooms were on the sixth floor and were joined by a set of locked doors, as you were informed by the receptionist (with a wink). You were not sure what to do with this information but, as usual, Neil’s charm saved you.

“Thank you, miss” he smiled at the clerk and snatched your keys from the counter “It’s good to know” he smirked and walked away.

You followed him to the lift, where you could finally ask:

“What was that about?”

“I suppose she thought that we’re not here for…” he took a moment to think about the right word “Strictly business reasons” he enunciated every syllable “But rather for fun while keeping up the appearances”

Your eyes widened at the implication.

“Right” you didn’t dare think why she got that impression.

Neil chuckled as he led you to the rooms, pausing to hand you the key. Only once you saw him open the door to his room you sobered up:

“Wait, what do we do now?”

“Come to my room once you’re ready. I won’t lock the door” he winked and disappeared into his room.

You stared at the closing door before shaking your head and entering your own room.

He can be impossible sometimes, you thought with fondness and disbelief.

The room was quite big, with a queen-sized bed, a sofa with a coffee table, and a large bathroom. The view came out onto the maze of skyscrapers that you associated with New York. The barely visible sky was grey and threatening with rain. You decided to quickly shower, change into more comfortable clothes, and fix your make-up. All that took twenty minutes and you were quite proud of yourself. You opened the door leading to Neil’s room and hesitated at the second set. Trying the handle you found it unlocked and tentatively came in.

“Finally” he gave out a theatrical sigh from his place on the sofa.

He changed into yet another shirt and dress trousers. You did sometimes wonder how many sets of those he had.

The next thing you noticed was that while you were getting ready Neil has ordered quite a big selection of food from the room service. It has taken the whole space on the coffee table, along with water and teapot.

“Wow” you grinned at the sight, feeling your stomach rumble.

“Thought we might need it” he shrugged and motioned for you to join him on the sofa.

“I know I did” you quickly dove for the toasties before he could snatch them.

He laughed at your enthusiasm for food, but you could not care less at the moment. You felt his fond gaze for a little longer before he too started the feast. After you ate, Neil cleared the table and spread out the dossier along with any files you received.

“So…” you both looked down at the mess of papers and photos “Today we need to get to that bar” you squinted at the name “Benny’s and set up a meeting with Steiner?” you looked up at Neil for clarification.

“Yeah, that’s it” he nodded and picked up one of the documents “We’re a pair of weapon dealers who want to know a bit more about that mysterious piece of plutonium” he explained.

“That’s a manageable cover” you mused while trying to memorise your new identity.

“Well, I was hoping they’d make us fake married or something” Neil retorted innocently, and you glared at him sharply.

“What? Wouldn’t you want to be married to me?” the wounded look on his face made you laugh.

“Sounds horrible” you swatted his arm playfully and reached for another document.

But before you got that far, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it. You met his soft gaze and smiled back, admiring the sparks in his blue eyes. After a beat, he let go of your hand.

“I think we’d be a perfect match” he sent you one last smug smile and got up “We should get going if we want to catch Raul and establish contact” he added.

A perfect match? You observed as Neil put on the tie and suit jacket and considered his words with curiosity. You did like him, there was no denying that. And you felt like he enjoyed your company too. But before you could dwell on it too long, you felt his intense gaze. Caught in the act of staring, you felt yourself blush. But he only grinned and offered you a hand to get up from the sofa.

“C’mon, we need to get going” he ushered you towards your room.

Right, first mission. You took a deep breath and started to get ready. The time has come.

*** The first part of the plan went without any major fuck-ups. You and Neil met Raul at the bar, and he gave you all the information you could need about Steiner. It was clear that you both had to learn your roles perfectly as he tended to be suspicious. After that Neil went away to set up the meeting with the weapons dealer for tomorrow’s evening. All you could do was entertain Raul with random stories from your training which proved rather easy.

Once Neil came back, you both decided to go back to the hotel to get much-needed rest and prepare. The fact that so far everything seemed to go along the plan, made you feel a tiny bit more confident. But nerves were still there, and you could barely contain them when you made it back to the hotel. You lied to Neil that you were tired and shut the door before you could even look at him again.

But after showering, changing into sleeping clothes, and having a cup of herbal tea, nothing got better. You tried lying down in the darkened room only to quickly get up with a pain in your chest and shallow breath. After sitting in the dark and trying to calm down your racing thoughts for close to an hour, you gave up. You put on a cardigan and looked at the door leading to Neil’s room. It was past 1 AM but you had the feeling he was not sleeping. You knew there was no way you were able to rest now. Oh, why the hell…

You tried the handle of the connecting doors and found it unlocked. Of course.

Neil’s room was covered in darkness, save for a bedside table lamp casting a warm glow. You were struck by how neat everything looked, with his suitcase in one corner and clothes folded on the chair. Only the bed was in disarray with papers thrown on it and Neil himself sat in the middle. He glanced up as you came in, surprised:

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I tried but…” you shrugged helplessly “Just couldn’t get my brain to shut up”

The worry in his gaze made you freeze. He was sat on the bed with ruffled hair and a wrinkled shirt. He was probably very tired. And you were weak and overreacting again. Suddenly you realised what a mistake it was to come here:

“Sorry, I shouldn’t… I’ll go now” you blurted and started to turn away.

You heard the rush of papers falling onto the floor and then Neil’s voice.

“No, stay” he sounded concerned.

Slowly you turned around to face him again, trying to put on a brave face. It was pointless though because he saw right through you. He got up from the bed, scattering all the documents onto the floor. Seeing you hesitate, he crossed the distance and took your hand in his, guiding you towards the bed. That only increased your panic.

“What are you doing?” you tried not to step on all the papers “Don’t we need those?”

He looked down at the pile with a surprised look, almost as though he forgot about them. Then he quickly made up his mind and looked up at you with determination.

“We do. But more so I need you to calm down so get in” he gestured towards the bed.

Your mind was blank. There was so much that could go wrong. But he noticed your uncertainty and unceremoniously pushed you onto the bed. You stared in shock before recovering enough to retort:

“You know I’m pretty sure there are better ways to make a lady sleep with you” You heard him laugh as he collected the pages.

“Certainly” finally he got up and dumped the pile onto the coffee table “But it worked” he shrugged.

Neil watched as you clumsily shifted to sit up with your back against the headboard and then joined you. After a few minutes of awkward silence, you asked:

“Sure you don’t want me to leave so you can go back to work?”

You felt extremely self-conscious in your sleeping clothes, with uncombed hair and tear-streaked cheeks. Neil’s intense gaze did not help it either but before you could even think about getting up, he replied:

“Perfectly sure” he smiled at you softly “Now tell me what’s wrong”

You sighed and let yourself relax slightly, leaning on the pillows. Staring straight ahead at the wall, you explained:

“I felt very anxious and hoped that maybe the shower and tea will help. Nothing changed so I tried to go to sleep but… my chest started aching and I couldn’t breathe” you finished while feeling the tears well up at the recollection.

You felt the bed shift as Neil moved closer and took one of your hands. You watched with curiosity as he traced the lines of your veins to the pulse point on the wrist and held his pointer finger there, checking your heart rate. You felt a nervous flutter at the gentle way he cradled your hand. You were pretty positive he will detect a pulse of 100bmp. After thirty seconds of intense focus, Neil released his hold on your hand and smiled:

“Apart from a very fast heart rate, you’ll be fine” he winked, and you looked down flustered.

But you were not allowed to get lost in shame for too long as he scooted even closer, leaving no space between you, and gingerly placed his arm around your shoulders.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking at you with genuine concern.

Your breath hitched at the closeness of him, but you quickly suppressed the feeling and nodded. After a few more tense breaths, you relaxed into the embrace, feeling him trace circles on your shoulder.

“What made you so scared?” his voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Think it’s just the idea of the first mission” you admitted “And ever since you and TP told me about the plan and the algorithm, I felt this tension rise and I guess it just hit the fan” sighing helplessly, you let your head rest on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I probably would have been more concerned if you took all this without questions”

“I guess I reacted that way because I never expected to be important… Definitely not in something of that scale” once you started talking the honesty did not seem to stop “I’ve spent so much time looking for my place in the world and now when I think I’ve found it, I’m not sure I’m good enough”

After your admission, you felt Neil’s embrace tighten. You propped your head on his shoulder, so it was resting in the crook of his neck again, enjoying the warmth and safety.

“You are more than good enough” when he finally spoke you were almost surprised “And I’m not only saying that because I believe in what TP says”

You looked up at Neil and met his earnest gaze.

“Since the day we met and I showed you how inversion works, I knew that you will be amazing at it” he smiled at you softly.

“Even though I nearly passed out in the training zone?”

“Yeah” he grinned at the memory fondly “I just had the feeling that you’re supposed to work with us, with me”

You would swear that his eyes briefly glanced at your lips. But as quickly as the thought entered your mind, he reached out to brush away a stray hair from your forehead and you lost the ability to think entirely. He tucked the strand with care and brushed your jawline with his thumb.

“TP was right, you know” he was looking at you with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“About?”

“Me taking care of you” he smiled and admired your dazed expression. You could only stare, too overwhelmed with feelings to say anything. And you probably would have kept on staring if it was not for the extreme tiredness that begun to catch up. Before you could say anything, a wide yawn made you cover your face with your hands. The spell was broken.

“Think you’re tiny bit tired” Neil grinned at your sheepish expression.

“No shit” you mumbled and moved to get up, but he kept his grip steady.

“You can stay here” he answered your surprised glance.

You quickly considered the options, admitting that it was tempting. You felt safe with Neil and his presence definitely made you calmer. But it did feel like crossing some lines.

He was still looking at you with that hopeful eyes and that sealed the deal.

“Thanks… for everything” you smiled at him, hoping to convey even a quarter of what you felt through it.

“Always” he grinned back.

You both quietly shifted so that you were lying down with a small gap between you, both staring at the ceiling. After a few quiet moments, he turned off the bedside lamp and turned to face you.

“Good night” you heard him whisper and turned to look at him too.

“Sweet dreams, Neil” you replied while trying to make out his features in the darkness of the room.

“Oh I know they will be sweet” you could picture the sly grin.

And with that, he turned onto the other side. No longer than five minutes later you heard his breath level off and make way for quiet snores. You could not help but smile at the adorable sound. Maybe this night wasn’t so bad in the end.

*** You have not slept so soundly in days. When you woke up, the first thought that came to your mind was that you were being cuddled. An arm was thrown over your waist and you felt warm breath near your ear. Then as the morning fog slowly ascended, you remembered it all clearly. Neil. As though he was reading your mind, a second later you felt him stir and mumble:

“Morning sunshine” he sounded cheery.

Before you could react you felt him brush his lips over your temple. You froze, feeling the flutters in your stomach return with tripled force. Taking a deep breath to calm down you slowly squeezed the hand that was draped over your waist and sat up.

“Hi” you glanced at him only to be astounded by how unkempt and yet adorable he looked.

His hair was completely ruffled, with strands sticking out in every direction. And the shirt and trousers were crumpled to the point of needing starch treatment to ever be wearable again. And yet he still looked good. Especially with that boyish smile and sparkling eyes. One could suppose that you were not immune to him. At all.

“Do you always sleep in that?” you gestured towards his outfit, trying to divert your thoughts.

“No, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you last night” it was that shit-eating grin again “Did you sleep well?” he sat up now too but kept his distance.

“Very well” you admitted with a blush “But it’s late and we should probably prepare” you used the most sensible excuse to get up.

Before you could do that, Neil reached out and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers.

“Just don’t you dare feel sorry for this” you knew he was serious from the look in his eyes.

“I’ll try” you smiled slightly and used this chance to leave his room in haste.

While you did indeed try not to feel embarrassed about what happened, it was difficult. You were not used to people seeing you as vulnerable as you were last night. But at the same time, he did not seem to mind and that took you by surprise. His kindness and thoughtfulness were certainly not helping in trying to be more objective about him.

You managed to get changed and prepare yourself for the day relatively fast, considering what a mess your thoughts were. Once you were done you grabbed the needed documents from the coffee table and made beeline for Neil’s room without thinking too much. As usual, the door was unlocked.

The moment you stepped into his room you knew you have fucked up. He was there, just in front of where you entered, in a new pair of trousers and no shirt. Your eyes widened when you registered that last detail.

“Shit, sorry! I shouldn’t just come in…”

“No worries, darling” Neil drawled out the nickname expressively.

He looked at you with a grin, clearly enjoying it more than you were. It seemed as though he slowed down the process of putting on a new shirt just to tease you. It worked. You stared at his rather fit body and felt your cheeks grow warmer. He caught your wandering gaze with a wink and held it with an expression that was far from innocent. The knowing smirk told you that he was aware of what he was doing. But still, you held your ground, letting yourself openly look at his toned arms and chest. If he didn’t mind then there was no harm in looking, right?

Finally, he finished the process of buttoning up the shirt, while still keeping his gaze fixed on you. He assessed your expression with one last look and grinned:

“Let’s get to work, sunshine”

You wanted to punch him in that perfect jaw.

#tenet #Neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

160 notes · View notes